


It's Kind of Magic

by yhut2013



Series: Parallel Universe [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sick Brian, Smut, Time Skips, hurt Deaky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 60,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yhut2013/pseuds/yhut2013
Summary: Brian walked up to the smaller man, fists still in jean pockets. “Did you really break up with Veronica Deaky?”John sighed, unsurely glanced up at Brian’s eyes and nodded.Brian shuffled his feet, a huge grin appeared on his face as he could not contain his excitement. All the sudden, he seemed at lost of words, “Deaky, I…”“Yeah?” Corner of his lips curled slightly upwards, John looked at the taller man expectantly.***Sequel to the previous work Decisions. This story basically explore the 1974 universe where John did not marry Veronica in more detail. How Brian and John got together, how did their relationship evolve, how did public react, and what happens after 1991. This story would include some of the same chapters of Decisions to make the timeline more complete. Recommend reading the previous work beforehand but could be read as standalone.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Per some requests, I will try to write sequels to my previous story Decisions which I will explore the 2 alternate universes in more detail. This one is about the 1974 universe. I have the main plot planned out but the details are still to be determined. Since the holidays are done and real life has gotten so much busier. It would be impossible to update as fast as I did with the previous story. But I will try my best. Hope you enjoy.

Prologue

“Deaky! You are back.” As soon as John was through the door of the flat in London he shared with the three other bandmates, he was greeted by a theatrical hug from the singer.

“Freddie, nice seeing you too.” John smiled and returned the hug eagerly. Behind Freddie, John saw the tall lanky figure of the guitarist with a mob of curly hair leaning against his bedroom door silently watching them, with an expectant expression that John cannot yet read. Mind traveling to the passionate kiss they shared the night before John left for home, his heart fluttered as soon as their gazes met.

“Deaky, please tell me you remember to bring your passport from home. Or Brian here will have a melt down.” Freddie joked, “he just sent me running to my parents’ house to get it.”

“Well we are leaving the country tomorrow Freddie.” Brian snapped.

“No worries, passport and all papers are safely in my bag.” John chuckled.

Freddie stuck his tongue out at the taller man but quickly turned his attention to the bassist. He followed John to the bed room and jumped on the bed while the bassist started to clean out his bag and suitcase.

“So..” The singer winked at the guitarist who is leaning just outside the open door while asked with a mischievous smile on his face, “how did it go?”

“How did what go?” John replied while busy unpacking and repacking for the impending trip.

“Oh, don’t be daft darling. You know what I am talking about. How was your proposal? Success I gather?” Freddie started helping John tidying up the papers he dumped out of his bag.

“I didn’t do it.” John mumbled without looking up.

“How come? I thought you were planning it. You said even the ring was ready.” Sounding concerned, Freddie looked at his young friend.

“I decided not to. We broke up instead.” John kept himself busy organizing his suitcase.

“What?” Freddie shared a surprised look with Brian. He stopped what he was doing, jump out of bed and came to John’s side. “What happened, Deaky? Are you okay?”

John smiled sheepishly, “why would I not be okay? It just didn’t feel right so we decided to end it.”

“Well, it’s still kind of dramatic to go from proposal to breaking up.” Freddie gave the bassist a tight hug. “I’m here if you want to talk, okay darling?”

John rolled his eyes and returned the hug. “Yes Freddie, I am okay I swear. Now if you don’t leave me alone to pack for the tour, you can explain to managers why we will miss our flight tomorrow.”

After Freddie left, John continued to busy himself to packing for their planned 4-5 months long tour in the US. After he is satisfied that everything he needs is stuffed in the suitcase or his bag, he stood up, only to be startled by Brian still staring at him from the door with soft gaze in the hazel eyes.

“Geez Brian. You have been here the whole time? Do you not even breath or what?” John complained, still trying to avoid eye contact. “I swear all my travel documents are in the bag.”

Brian walked up to the smaller man, fists still in jean pockets. “Did you really break up with Veronica Deaky?”

John sighed, unsurely glanced up at Brian’s eyes and nodded.

Brian shuffled his feet, a huge grin appeared on his face as he could not contain his excitement. All the sudden, he seemed at lost of words, “Deaky, I…”

“Yeah?” Corner of his lips curled slightly upwards, John looked at the taller man expectantly.

“Brian!” Roger’s voice from the living room ruined the blissful awkwardness between them.

 “What Roger?” Brian yelled back.

“I think I lost my passport.”

John rolled his eyes as Brian ran out of the room with a look to kill. It definitely felt good to be back with his mates. John thought amusingly as he watched Brian, ready to pull all his curls out, helping Roger to trace where he could have misplaced his passport. However, it also felt unreal to hold so much knowledge of the future. He found it unbelievable that four idiots like themselves could make it to be one of the most successful rock bands in England. Would Freddie, Brian, and Roger believe him if he told them that he knew everything that would happen to them in the next 16 years?


	2. Chapter 1

It turned out that America, a land of opportunities as people used to say, was not too different from the other side of the Atlantic at all. Except for the fact that the people are way ruder. Philadelphia, was their third stop after Boston and New York. Their shows had been a success so far, selling out every night. Despite only being the opening act, they could tell the crowds really liked them.

What is bothering John to no end however, is his relationship with Brian, or the lack thereof. After that awkward exchange of glances and words the day before they left for the states, he had not spoke more than 10 sentences with Brian since then. He felt that the guitarist is purposefully ignoring him. It seemed that the whole incidence of that drunken kiss had totally disappeared from Brian’s mind.

Hell, John is starting to doubt whether the whole thing is a dream as well.

That’s why when Freddie and Roger suggested to go out after the show, he agreed. Get drunk and dance, what is a better than that to take his mind off Brian. As for how Freddie convinced them to come to this gay club, John could not recall.

What the hell, it would be all the same to him now. He could still continue his plan of get drunk and dance away the problems. Bodies moving, disco music deafening, the club was bathed in smell of sweat and alcohol. The swing lights of the dance floor was starting to make him dizzy. Now his bandmates were no-where to be found on the dance floor, John slumped back to the bar planning to ask for another drink.

To his surprise, the bar tender pushed a drink in front of him before asking. John looked at him quizzically.

“It was from him.” John followed the direction the bar tender was pointing. A tall, sturdy man with dirty blond hair in his late twenties raised his glass and nodded to him. John reciprocated the gesture, taking a sip at the bitter stiff drink.

It only took a few sips before John realized that something was not right. The flashing lights in the club was twirling above his head and the sound of the beat of dance music was becoming muffled. The smell of sweat and booze was making John nauseated. He got up from bar trying to move to the loo but ended up falling on the floor as he could not keep his balance. He grabbed onto the railing on the wall, half stumble, half crawl finally reaching the door of the dirty loo.

Something is horribly, horribly wrong.

Brian is ready to pace a hole in the floor of the hotel room. As soon as he saw the door open, he yelled. “Where the hell have you been? Fancy you still know the way back!” When he only saw Freddie and Roger walking through the door, he became alarmed. “Where is Deaky?”

“Would you please relax Brian.” Freddie giggled then looked at Roger. “I thought Deaky followed you Rog.”

Roger giggled and looked behind him, clearly tipsy from alcohol, “I guess not.”

Freddie shrugged his shoulder at Brian, “he’s probably in the other room.” In order to cut down cost, it was the management’s idea that four of them would share two hotel rooms.

“No. He’s not.” Brian snapped, ready to pull his curls out. “Which club did you go to? I can’t believe you guys just left him there.”

“Calm the fuck down, Brian.” Roger mumbled as he dropped onto the bed. “Maybe Deaky is getting lucky for once. He is a single man now you know.”

Brian’s face just got redder with the blond’s suggestion, if that was at all possible. “Fuck off Roger. Just tell me which club you guys went to!”

“The Fly on Jefferson street.” As the guitarist grabbed the door handle to rush outside, Freddie ran behind him while dragging Roger along, “wait. You don’t know where that is.”

The taxi ride to the club was rather uncomfortable with Brian chopping his fingers on the back of the front seat, Roger slumped in almost stupor state and Freddie stuck in the middle.

“Brian, what is the matter.” Freddie tried to calm his nervous friend down, “we thought Deaky left already when Roger and I couldn’t find him on the dance floor. He is 23 years old, not some underaged teen. He can take care of himself.”

“Yeah, Brian. I don’t ever see you worry about me when I go clubbing by myself.” Roger interrupted suddenly from his drunken stupor, almost scaring both his friends.

“Go back to sleep Roger.” Brian sighed. The idea of John alone in a club in the strange country scared him. The idea of his Deaky possibly with someone else sickens him even more. “It’s Deaky, this is not his scene usually.”

“Just admit it Brian, you are whipped.” Freddie hummed.

When they finally arrived at the club, Brian felt like he was living in his worst nightmare. He did not realize it was a gay club.

“You two left him in a gay club? Are you out of your mind?” He looked like he was ready to strangle the two half-drunk bandmates before he ran into the crowded club. Freddie and Roger stumbled behind him.

After searching the whole dance floor frantically with no results, Brian returned to the bar to find his other two bandmates who already ordered another round of drinks. When Freddie saw Brian’s face which is ready to explode, he asked the bar tender, “hey mate. Did you happen see a boy with brown long hair, early twenties, British accent?”

“Oh yeah. You just missed him. He went to the bathroom like 10 minutes ago. He did not look good.” The bar tender shook his head while pointing them to the direction of the loo.

As if suddenly awoke from the drunken haze, Freddie jumped up from the stool and started to run in the direction the bar tender is pointing, with Roger and Brian at his heels.

“Deaky? Are you here?” Freddie called out as soon as he opened the door of the dirty, dark loo.

“Deaky?” Brian called after him.

Getting no obvious response, they went inside. The loo smelt like piss and vomit. A couple of urinals were clearly not flushing. It was filled with grunting and moaning sounds coming from the locked stalls.

The three friends looked at each other and started looking under the doors of the locked stalls trying to see if they can recognize the missing bandmate by the shoes he was wearing. As Brian passed the innermost stall, he heard a faint whimper that made his knees weak.

“Freddie? Help. Please.”

It was John. Brian had no doubt. “Deaky? Are you in there?” He started knocking down the stall door.

Brian would forever remember that sight in front of him after the door broke on the hinge. John’s face was buried in the brick wall. A sturdy man in his late twenties with curly hair was pressed flush against John’s back, one hand locking the bassist’s hands on top of his head and the other one covering his mouth.

“Get off him!” Brian immediately pulled the guy off John’s trembling body. “Bloody bastard.” He kicked the guy with all his might while getting an elbow punch in his gut. Roger helped Brian tackle John’s attacker while Freddie immediately went to check on the bassist.

As if there was absolutely no tone in his muscles, John’s limp body dropped against the wall onto the floor. Tears streaming down his cheeks, John was trembling like a leaf in the wind. Freddie knelt down beside him and gently tapped his shoulder. As Freddie expected, John moved away from his touch.

“Deaky, Deaky. It’s Fred. It’s okay. You are safe now.” Freddie’s soft voice rang in John’s ears.

“Freddie?” John’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yeah Deaky. I’m here. We are all here.” Freddie tried to wipe some tears off John’s face, to his delight, the younger man did not flinch away.

Bruises around John’s skinny wrist, red marks so apparent on his pale neck, and drops of blood around the corner of his mouth. The horrible sight of their youngest bandmate made Freddie drown in sea of guilt, made Brian sick to his stomach, and made Roger totally awake from his drunken stupor. They did not even notice the attacker limped away with a swollen ankle and broken nose.

It broke Brian’s heart to see John in this state. He wanted to pull John in his arms and hug him tightly, keep him safe and protect him from the world. But he figured that is probably more than John could handle right now. Brian knelt down beside the bassist and gently put a hand on his shoulder, pained at how John flinched with his touch.

“Deaky,” watching for the John’s reaction, Brian carefully put his arms around the younger man and pulled John to him. John naturally leaned onto Brian’s shoulder. Tears welled up in Brian’s eyes when he felt wetness on his shoulder. So close, Brian thought. If they were just minutes late, he couldn’t even dare to imagine what would have happened to John.

“I’m sorry Deaky. I’m so sorry.” Roger sobbed while leaning onto the smeared bathroom wall, all the drunkenness disappeared down the drain. It was all his fault. If he didn’t drag Freddie away from the club after their half assed effort trying to find John, convinced that John could take care of himself. If they could have just spent a little more time. None of this would have happened.

Freddie was silent. It was his idea to come to this gay club. He was the oldest one. He should have taken better care of his younger friends.

“Brian,” John murmured into the crook of Brian’s neck, “I want to get out of here.”

Brian rubbed John’s back and helped getting John up from the floor. “Let’s go back Deaky.”

The ride home was depressingly silent with everyone drowned in their own world of guilt and heart break. John barely had the energy to stand if it wasn’t for Brian supporting most of his weight. As soon as they arrived in the hotel room, John flopped onto the bed and passed out.

“It’s all my fault. I dragged you back without finding him.” Roger muttered, fingers dug deep into his blond hair as if ready to pull them out. Freddie put his arm around the drummer’s shoulder, “it’s my fault. It was my idea to go to that club.”

Brian sighed and rubbed his eyes. He patted the backs of his two friends and said, “we are all lucky that nothing worse happened. You two just go to bed. It’s late and we have to be on the road again tomorrow.”

Freddie nodded, “tell Deaky we are sorry Brian. I don’t know if he will ever forgive us.” He left the room with his arm still around Roger.

Brian felt all his energy drained from him as he leaned onto the closed door after his two bandmates left. It was a mixture of horror, anger, guilt, but mostly relief. He is so thankful to the stars crossed in the universe that they were not a minute too late. He walked over to where John laid on the bed, dead to the world. He took off John’s shoes and jeans and tucked him under covers. Asleep, John looked almost angelic. Brian tried to flatten the creases between John’s brows and kissed the bruise marks on John’s thin wrists. He laid down beside the bassist waiting for the sleep that took a long time to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments. The friend to lover part is hard to write. I will try my best and hope you enjoy.   
> PS. I love reading new stories and or updates in this fandom. Hope we can keep this fandom going. :D


	3. Chapter 2

Brian woke up when it was still dark outside the window to an empty bed which made him panic. He jumped off the bed but the steady sound of the shower in the bathroom calmed him down a little. But when he walked to the just outside the bathroom door, he heard faint sounds of sobs through the water that made his heart bleed.

“Deaky,” Brian lightly knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you okay in there?” When he heard no reply, Brian knocked harder. “Deaky. Please answer me.”

Water stopped and John walked out clad in towel around his waist. His eyes are swollen red and his usually rather pale skin turned so red under the scolding water for god knows how long looked as if it was ready to peel off. Yet John still felt dirty inside.

“Deaky?” Brian looked away while John changed into his boxers and t-shirt. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, just grand.” John muttered, “all my muscles ache and my head is killing me.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened last night?” Brian sat down beside him on bed.

“I just wanted to get drunk and dance away…well..” John paused and stared at the floor. “The when I came back to the bar, Fred and Roger was nowhere to be found. There was a drink waiting for me on the counter that the bartender said was from some guy. I thought, fuck it, it’s a free drink so I took it. Guess that was pretty dumb.” John chuckled. “And immediately I knew something was wrong with the drink. “

Brian put an arm around the younger man carefully. When he did not feel any resistance from John, he tightened his arm. “God Deaky. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” John murmured.

“Promise me you will never do that again. If we arrived just a minute later.” Brian shuttered at that thought. “I would never be able to forgive myself.”

John leaned onto Brian’s shoulder, savoring his embrace. “I’m sorry Brian. I should’ve known better than to take a drink from stranger.”

“No,” Brian shook his head. “It’s my fault. I should have gone with you. Deaky, I…”

John looked up at him. Despite eyelids being swollen and the apparent dark circles under the eyes, he could see a reflection of himself in John’s clear green iris. Brian sighed. Should he confess his feelings? He had been contemplating this moment for the past number of weeks, ever since John announced that he broke up with Veronica. But the flashbacks from the dingy bathroom stall last night made Brian shudder. He took a deep breath and started, “Deaky. That night before you went home to Leicester. I was not as drunk as you thought.”

“Mhmm.” John hummed lazily on Brian’s shoulder. Soft breath on Brian’s neck made his heart flutter.

“And I was equally awake the next morning Deaky, when you kissed me before you left.”

John blushed and hid his face at the crook of Brian’s neck. Brian smiled and combed his long fingers through John’s still wet locks.

“When I heard you broke up with Veronica, I ended with Chrissie as well, the night before we came to the states. I think I broke her heart.” Brian sighed, “but at least I was honest. Deaky, I don’t know when it started. I think I am falling in love with you. I was a twat for not telling you sooner and I’m so sorry for leaving you hanging for the past couple of weeks. I just wanted to make sure that I’m not hurting you by moving forward. But last night, the thought of you being in danger, like that. It would have killed me Deaky.”

“How would you be hurting me Brian?” John looked up to Brian questioningly.

“This whole thing. It’s all new to me. I am 28 years old and I never fell for a guy before.” Brian chuckled. “I thought I loved Chrissie, but after I met you and got to know you, I’m not so sure. But this whole thing, us together. It’s all new to me, and it’s not the norm. And we are finally going somewhere with Queen. This relationship could really be detrimental to you, to the band.”

John grabbed Brian’s hand and squeezed it, “are you scared, Brian?”

“Not of us together.” Brian shook his head, “but I just worry this will kill our future in making music. I worry one day you will regret.”

“What if I tell you I won’t.” John smiled, a knowing smile that Brian had never seen before, remind him of the smile on portrait of Mona Lisa he had seen in Paris. “The only regret I have in life would be if I haven’t had the guts to face my feelings for you. And don’t worry about Queen. We would be big. I know it.” John winked.

Brian looked into John’s green eyes shining with love and confidence. He smiled brightly, “when did you become so confident Deaky, just makes me love you even more.” He cupped the younger man’s face, “you are right. If I didn’t tell you how I felt, I would regret for the rest of my life. And as long as you are with me, I think we can get through any obstacle.”

“I know we will.” John replied firmly, fingers weaved into Brian’s messy curls.

The first ray of sun shone through the creaks of the window curtain onto John’s half wet long locks that make him look like an angle. Brian could not help but leaned down to kiss those soft lips that he dreamed about for months.

As pictures of himself and Brian sharing number of kisses years into the future appeared in his head, John can’t help but smile into the kiss. It is a new day, new country, and new life.

Barely slept a wink, Roger and Freddie were reluctant to see John at the breakfast. However, as soon as they arrived at the table where Brian and John were already enjoying their food, they could see an immediate change in their two bandmates. John was whispering something in Brian’s ear which made him smile, he was practically glowing with happiness. The image of being pressed against the dirty bathroom wall at the club obviously gone from his mind. Even Brian, who usually wore a serious even close to grumpy face, can’t hide the smile.

Roger and Freddie exchanged a knowing look and slowly walked to the table.

“Looks like you two had a rough night.” Brian commented as glanced up to his two bandmate’s disheveled looks, with matching dark circles under their eyes and messy long hair.

Freddie shifted his feet while Roger continued to stare at the ground. “Deaky,” the singer started. “we are really sorry about last night. We don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I hope we can still play together for the rest of the tour.”

To Freddie and Roger’s surprise, John walked over to them and squeezed them tightly in a hug. “It’s okay. You guys can’t look after me every minute, especially when I am expected to be the responsible one.” The bassist chuckled. “I was not thinking logically last night and being stupid. It’s not your fault.”

“You are so sweet dear.” Freddie returned the hug, feeling like a huge load off his shoulders.

“Are you feeling okay Deaky?” Roger glanced him over from head to toe, “are you hurt anywhere? Do you need to see the doctor? We don’t know what you had in your drink last night.”

John shook his head, still can’t seem to stop the bright grin on his face, “I have never felt better.” He winked at Brian who flashed him a warm smile.

“That’s an interesting change in events,” Freddie raised his eyebrows as he sat down, “you two darlings finally got through your thick heads and agreed that you are crazy about each other?”

Brian put his long arms around John’s shoulders and smirked, “we had a good talk this morning, among other things”, causing John to turn into a deep shade of crimson.

Roger made a disgusted face while biting on his scones.  Forever the most logical and serious of the group, Brian quickly changed into a more solemn tone, “we do want this to be private though. I don’t know how this will affect our career in music.

“Oi Brian, can you just relax for once?” Roger spurted, “if those wankers have a problem with that, then they should stop listening to our music.”

“Roger, Brian is right.” John added, “unfortunately most people are still not very accepting. And we are just beginning to make a name for ourselves.”

Freddie sipped his tea and sighed, “it will be difficult path for your two though.”

John grabbed Brian’s hand under the table and shared a loving look, “we know. But Freddie you are not the one to be afraid to take more risks.”

“You know me well darling.” Freddie winked at the bassist.

“My point is, there is no use to make it more difficult for us making music since we all agree we have the potential to make it to the biggest rock band in England and possibly the world.” Brian added. “And what we do with our private lives should not be anyone’s business anyway.”

“I drink to that.” Roger took a gulp of his coffee, regretting immediately as he burnt his tongue.

“We do sound fucking magnificent together.” Freddie slung his hair dramatically.

“I know we will be legendary. We will all be rock gods, stinkin rich and famous.” John said enigmatically, ignoring the curious looks from his other three bandmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy :D.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter from the previous work, "Decisions". I just included here for completeness.

1975  
“I’m in love with my car. You can’t be fuckin serious Roger.” Brian can’t hold in laughter as he listened to the demo and almost spurted out his coffee.   
“Fuck off, Brian.” Roger grabbed a dish towel and threw at his bandmate across the breakfast table. “Deaky, what do you think?”   
John raised his eyebrows while nibbling on his toast, “I don’t know Roger. What exactly were you planning to do to the car? And please, don’t you ever touch my car.”  
Roger’s pale face turned red as the two bandmates sitting across from him broke out in a burst of laughter. “This is not fair. Ever since you two got together, you have been teaming up on me.” Roger complained with a pout as Freddie walked in.   
“What’s so funny darlings.” Freddie asked while pouring himself some coffee.   
“Fred, good thing you are here.” Brian replied while wiping off some tears from his eyes after too much laughing. “Listen to this, Roger’s declaration of his unrequited love for his vehicle.”   
After Brian played the demo on the record player again, John can’t help but let out another laugh. Freddie looked at Roger with amusement on his face, “what were you planning to do with it?”  
Roger batted his eyelashes at the older man, “I thought we could put it on the B side of the album.”   
Freddie sipped his coffee and avoided Roger’s pleading gaze, “it’s a good start dear. But it’s a bit simple and odd don’t think you think?”   
“Yes! That’s exactly what I said,” John agreed. “What is Roger doing to the car?”   
“Bastards! All of you.” Roger yelled and stumped out of the kitchen.   
Tongue in cheek, John whispered to Brian sitting next to him, “did we go too far? He seems furious. He is very attached to that song.”   
“Don’t worry Deaky.” Freddie waved his hand, “it’s Roger, always a drama queen.” He turned to the guitarist, “Brian, let’s hear your song.”   
Brian put on his little attempt at sci-fi skiffle, ’39. Freddie and John hummed to the melody.   
“It’s a nice tune.” Freddie said, “is it about time travel or something? How you come back and found out everyone you knew is dead. Only you would write a song like that, brainy and depressing.”   
Brian chuckled, “I don’t know. I feel like the music needs more layers, like if the bass could go an octave lower, then would be perfect.” He looked at John jokingly, “can you do that Deaky?”   
John took the sheet of music from Brian’s hand and read carefully, “my regular bass won’t be able to go that low. It would have to be the double bass, but I have never played that before.”   
“I don’t even think we have one here in the studio.” Freddie shook his head.   
“Then never mind.” Brian put an arm around John and patted his shoulders.   
It was a gray September afternoon with light drizzles and the farmhouse where they stayed to make the most successful album in their career was quiet except for the occasional soft sounds ballad from the piano. Brian put the kettle on to make some tea. He tried to open the largest cupboard in the kitchen to find sugar only to find it locked. That’s odd. Brian didn’t even know those cupboards could be locked. He tried to open the door with more force.  
“Stop it. It’s locked. Your sugar is in the drawer.” Roger’s voice came from inside the cupboard.   
“Roger? What the hell are you are you doing in there?” He didn’t want to admit that did gave him a little scare.   
“I am staying in this cupboard until you guys agree to have my song on the B side of the album.” Roger sounded determined.   
Brian didn’t know if he should laugh or cry at his friend’s ridiculous behavior. “Are you serious? How old are you Roger? Five?”   
Hearing no response from Roger, Brian sighed. “Roger, I know you worked hard on that song and you are proud of it. We laughed at it this morning and we are sorry. We were just joking. It is a good song. I sincerely apologize for hurting your feelings this morning. So can you please come out of the cupboard and we can talk about this as adults?”   
“No. I am not coming out until it’s on the B side. You can save your breathe, Brian.” Roger sounded determined.   
“Okay Roger. I agree to have it on the B side and I’m sure Deaky would be fine with it too. Now can you come out and we go talk to Freddie?” Brian asked again.   
“No. You go tell Freddie I am not coming out of the cupboard until he agrees to have my song on the B side of the album.”   
The kettle whistled. Brian shook his head and went ahead to make tea. He poured himself a cup and took a cup to the piano room thinking it’s Freddie in there playing. To his surprise, he saw John sitting in front of the piano stroking the eyes with his long slender fingers.   
“Deaky! I thought it was Freddie here playing. When did you learn to play the piano?” Brian set the tea cups on top of the piano and sat down beside the bassist. He wrapped his long arms around John’s waist and kissed his cheek lightly.   
“I take that flattery please don’t let Freddie hear that. He would be furious that he was even compared to me. He is so much better. I just started learning it last week.” John grinned ear to ear.   
“What are you playing?” Brian looked at the sheet of music on the piano stand, “Oh you are the best friend that I’ve ever had, I’ve been with you such a long time, you are my sunshine and I want you to know. That my feelings are true, I really love you…Very nice Deaky. Who did you write this for?” He leaned close to John and asked.   
A light shade of crimson started to spread from the younger man’s face to his neck. John turned away from Brian and replied nonchalantly, while still grinning, “no body.”   
Brian loved when John blushed. He looked so adorable that Brian can’t help but kiss him. Brian showered kisses on John’s neck and murmured to his ear, “is it for me Deaky? Am I your best friend?”   
The younger man nodded, shyly avoiding Brian’s gaze.   
“Can you play and sing this for me Deaky?” Brian whispered.   
“Brian, you know I can’t sing.” John shook his head.   
Brian tenderly brushed a strand of long brown locks behind John’s ear, “it’s okay Deaky. It’s just me, no one else. Please?”   
John started playing. His fingers are not as agile as Freddie’s on the piano keys but the melody is still soft and smooth. Brian was drowned in his gentle voice and sincere words in the lyric.   
Ooh, you make me live  
Whatever this world can give to me  
It's you you're all I see  
Ooh, you make me live now honey  
Ooh, you make me live  
Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had  
I've been with you such a long time  
You're my sunshine and I want you to know  
That my feelings are true  
I really love you  
Oh, you're my best friend  
Ooh, you make me live

Brian tightened his hold on John’s waist. “That’s beautiful Deaky. I love you too.” John leaned into the warmth of the taller man’s hug, resting his head on Brian’s shoulder.   
The grandfather clock in the living room downstairs struck 5, waking them up from their cocoon. John looked up to Brian and asked, “what did you need to find Freddie for.”   
“Oh right.” Brian remembered, “can you believe it. Roger locked himself in the cupboard. He refuses to come out until Freddie approves his car song to be on the B side of the album. We got to find Freddie before Roger suffocates in there.   
John rolled his eyes. “That drama queen.”   
********************************************************  
Three days after the cupboard incident, which resolved by needless to say, Roger getting his way and I’m in Love My Car is on the B side of the album, Brian found the other side of his bed empty in the wee hours of the morning when it’s still pitch black out the window. John and Brian had been sharing the same bed since they got to this farm house since both Freddie and Roger knew about their relationship. Besides, John’s small room in the basement gets way too cold during these early fall nights.   
Where did he go? Brian did not hear any sound in the bathroom. He got up, put on a robe and wandered out of the bedroom door. On his way downstairs, he saw Roger’s sprawled on his bed clad in his boxers through the ajar door. Brian shook his head, went into Roger’s room and tucked blankets around the blond. Freddie’s room door was shut but he could hear gentle snoring.   
As he got down the stairs, Brian could hear the tune of his song ’39 played by an instrument he did not recognize. The guitarist followed the tune to the studio and there was John in an old T-shirt and shorts, sitting on a stool with the music sheet of ’39 in the stand in front him, and practicing the bass line of the song on an old double bass. The sight warmed Brian’s heart and he even felt his eyes start to water a bit. He stood there, unable to move, mesmerized by the 24-year-old young man, brows knitted in a frown, head nodding to the beat while slender fingers stroke the chords of the clumsy instrument.   
As the music came to an end, Brian’s claps caused John to look in his direction and give him a sheepish smile. Brian walked over, cupped John’s face and kissed him passionately on the lips until they were both struggling to breathe.   
“Where did you find this instrument? I thought we didn’t have a double bass.” Brian asked after he caught his breathe, still holding onto John by the waist.   
John shrugged his shoulders, “I asked Paul to get me one after we had that chat with Freddie the other morning. He was able to bring it over at the end of the day.”   
“So you were hiding it and practicing on it secretly during the night?” Brian asked brushing John’s brown locks with his fingers.  
“I wanted to give you a surprise. Did I sound okay?” John asked the taller man hesitantly.   
Brian felt his heart just soared. He pulled John into a tight hug and nuzzled in John’s hair. “It was magnificent Deaky. You are magnificent. Thank you. You are the single best thing that had ever happened to me. And the last year with you had been the happiest in my life. I love you so much Deaky.”   
“I love you too, Brian.” John sighed.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe this part to the fics on AO3 about Brian's hepatitis, especially the one by LydianNode. Today, there are many options for treating hepatitis and acute liver failure, but back in the 70s, the treatment options are really limited and even liver transplant only had 25% success rate. Especially the one Brian got was hepatitis C, which the virus was not even isolated in 1989. So have to say he was really really lucky.

1977

“Are you ready darlings? The car is outside to take us to studio.” Freddie waltzed in John and Brian’s room in the hotel they were staying at during their tour in Tokyo. “Oh Brian honey, you look horrible. What’s wrong?”

Brian was crouched in bed in pajamas, definitely not dressed for a TV interview. His dark curls were a spaghetti mess and his eyes are barely open. John was sitting beside him on the bed.

“Freddie, I don’t feel so good. I don’t think I can make it.” Brian’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“What happened? You were fine on stage yesterday.” Freddie sat on the bed beside the guitarist as well.

John shook his head. He took Brian’s hand and frowned. “He was barely able to make it last night and he hasn’t left the bed yet today.”

“Oh Brian, why didn’t you tell us?” Freddie looked at the bassist, “you should have told us Deaky. Does he need to go to hospital?”

Brian violently shook his head, “no. I am not going to hospital. You guys go. I just need to rest, I will be fine.”

John exchanged a concerned look with Freddie. “How about if I stay here with him, you and Roger go to the studio.”

“No Deaky. You go with them too.” Brian replied. He managed a smile to his lover between the hitched breath.

“Brian…I’m worried about you.”

Before John could finish his sentence, the guitarist cut him off. “You are the most popular rock star here in Japan. Not me, not Roger, not even Fred. It’s you Deaky. You have to go. Don’t worry, I promise I will be fine.”

Brian practically pushed John off the bed. Resolved to not able to convince the guitarist otherwise, John sighed and followed his bandmate out the door after giving Brian a peck on the forehead. “I will be back soon.”

John regretted coming to the studio as soon as he sat down on the couch. He could not listen to what the hostess was saying most of the time even though it was almost perfect English. If it wasn’t for Roger who did most of the talking, there would definitely be multiple awkward moments. The thought of Brian, sick, by himself alone in the hotel room, made him wanting to get up and leave any second. It’s only sandwiched between his bandmates that prevented the bassist from doing so.

After the agonizing 2 hours were over, John just about leaped up and escaped from the studio. Roger was going to make some snarky comment on the way back but he held his tongue as he saw the seriousness on both John and Freddie’s faces.

The sight of Brian, a heavy yellowish tinge on his normally pale skin, laying in bed in fetal position with a hand on his stomach scared the shit out of the 3 friends. John rushed to the bedside and held Brian’s hand.

“Brian! How are you feeling?” John cleared the messy dark curls from Brian’s handsome face. He turned to Freddie and Roger, “why did he turn all yellow?”

“It’s jaundice.” Roger pondered, “something is wrong with his liver. Oh shit Brian, what did you do to yourself.”

Brian was barely conscious. Didn’t have enough energy to keep his eyes open, yet he grabbed onto John’s hand as if his life depended on it, murmuring under his breathe in a voice that’s merely a whisper, “Deaky, stay with me.”

John felt tears welling up in his eyes. He shifted his body to sit against the head of the bed so Brian can rest his head against his shoulder. Freddie was already busy calling their managers and yelling frantically into the phone, “Miami, Brian’s real sick. He needs to go to hospital!”

Just about everyone in the crew that joined them for this Japanese tour arrived at Brian’s room one time or other. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about what to do with Brian’s condition. The management team, including Jim Beach thought it was the best to ship Brian back to England on the first available flight rather than venture out the medical care in a foreign country where they couldn’t even communicate. Freddie and Roger were adamant that Brian to be sent to hospital right away.

John watched the scene unfold in front of him, the flurry of arguments flew across Brian’s bed. There were blurry of images that appeared in John’s head of the same situation he had seen some years ago. The love of his life, in his arms, terribly sick and barely conscious.  For a couple of moments, John could not tell whether this is reality or just a fantasy. No, nightmare is more accurate.

“Oi, Deaky, what do you say?” Roger slapped him on the arm causing John to wince. Oh, this is very real.

John stared at the drummer blankly, “say what?”

“God Deaky.” Roger was ready to pull his blond hairs out, “what the hell is going on in your pretty little head. What do you say about what we should do with Brian?”

To Roger and Freddie’s surprise, who fully expected their bandmate to be on their side. John murmured, “let’s go home.”

“Darling are you out of your mind.” Freddie yelled, dramatically throwing his arms in the air, “it’s an eight-hour flight.”

John looked down and tried to comb through Brian’s unruly curls with his slender fingers, “he will feel better at home.”

That settled it. After the doctor in the crew staff evaluated Brian and deemed him to be stable enough to ride on the flight, they were already booked on the next flight back to UK.

“I can’t believe those wankers.” Roger kept on swearing in the taxi on their way to the airport. “They are shipping Brian back so there is NHS. They just don’t want to pay for the foreign medical bills.”

“Yes!” Freddie nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe you would agree with them Deaky. You out of all people, who’s suppose to care about Brian the most.”

Ouch that hurt. John bit his lower lip. He wasn’t angry at his friends because he knew they were deeply concerned for Brian. They didn’t know what he knew. He knew Brian would be better going home. John kept silent and just tightened his hold on his lover.

With one of Brian’s long arm on each of their shoulders, Roger and John practically carried Brian onto the plane. Freddie ran behind them dragging all their luggage with him. 

Despite how mad they were at the bassist agreeing to ship Brian home, Roger and Freddie never failed to help when in need. John smiled at Roger cursing about how heavy Brian’s arm was weighing on his shoulder, but never let go of Brian’s hand; or how Freddie swearing at why they had so many luggage like girls, but still running the whole way to follow close behind.

The plane ride was a torture for all of them. Brian kept on vomiting and could barely open his eyes. His fever kept him in and out of consciousness. The recollection of familiar blurry images from John’s head did not cause him to freak out any less. Especially with the cold shoulders he kept on getting from Freddie and Roger. John held Brian’s hand tightly and prayed to all gods that he made the right decision.

“Deaky?” Brian seemed to have one of his clearer moments on the effects of the anti-pyretic medication.

“What is it Brian?” John gently rubbed the guitarist’s face.

Brian gave John a dreamy smile, a smile that he knew would melt his heart during the years to come. “I love you Deaky.”

John’s breath hitched. It took all his will to not let tears drop down his face. He cupped Brian’s face and whispered, “I love you too Brian. We are almost there. Just hang in there for me. Okay?”

Brian nodded, “I will. As long as you are here with me.” After that, he dropped back into stupor.

John gently kissed his lover on the lips. Despite being crouched in the tight space of the plane and Brian being terribly sick, John felt at peace.

************************************************************

John felt like he had been glued to the chair in the hospital waiting room for hours even though he knew that it couldn’t have been half that long. As soon as they landed in Heathrow, they rushed Brian to the hospital. After obtaining the basic information about Brian from them, the nurse kindly ushered them into the waiting room. Roger and Freddie decided to feed themselves and get tea after transcontinental flight while John remained, not wanting to miss any update on Brian’s condition.

John didn’t think he was an impatient person. But he loathed times like this, when there is nothing to occupy his brain with. His mind is filled with jumbled images of the past, of the present, and possibly even of the future to a point that John couldn’t tell which is which. Brian would be alright. John kept reminding himself.

“Could you pick that up for me Sir?” A boy of about 3 years old with blond curls was pointing to a rubber ball that was under John’s chair.

John smiled weakly at the boy and bend down to reach for the rubber ball. “Here you go.” He tossed the ball to the boy.

As John watched the boy skipping away happily while throwing the rubber ball into the air, images of himself playing with boys of similar age appeared in his head. They seemed so distant as if belonging to another life. John’s heart did sink a little realizing that they probably did.

“Look, he does move.” Roger’s sarcastic voice broke John out of his daze. Freddie handed him a cup of tea and a grilled cheese sandwich.

John shook his head but Freddie was not having it. He forced the food and drink in the bassist’s hand. “I’m pretty sure you have not eaten for the past 24 hours. One person sick at a time is enough drama for this band.”

With a sigh, John resigned to chewing on the cold cheese sandwich and washing it down with lukewarm tea. Just as the left-over hospital cafeteria food was making him nauseous, a man in white coat was asking for Brian May’s family. John immediately jumped up and threw the sandwich and teacup on the chair beside him.

“How is he?” John rushed to the doctor and asked anxiously, with Freddie and Roger on his heels.

“Well, it’s acute hepatitis.” The doctor started. “We gave him the treatment, the best one we currently have anyway. He is still not totally alert, goes in and out of consciousness. It’s a condition that is associated with liver failure, called hepatic encephalopathy. But otherwise he is relative stable currently.”

All the medical jargon flew over John’s head, he asked the only thing he cared about, “is he going to be okay?”

“It’s too early to tell right now.” The doctor sighed, “he is still in critical condition and we have to monitor his response to the treatment. In the coming days we will see whether his liver functions start to recover or continue to get worse. We are also monitoring for signs of infection, which he is at great susceptibility for and failure of other organs.”

John and Freddie remained stoic, all these words sound extremely scary and unreal to be happening to their beloved friend. Luckily, Roger had a better holding on medicine because of his dentistry and biology background.

“What if he does not have a good response to the treatment you gave?” Roger bit his lower lip and asked almost in a whisper.

“Then I’m afraid there are not many other options. All other treatment of acute liver failure caused by hepatitis are still experimental, including liver transplantation. But, let’s remain optimistic.” The doctor patted Roger’s back and tried to lighten the mood, “Mr. May is young and otherwise healthy. I have faith that he will pull through.”

“Can we see him then?” Freddie looked like he was ready to run away, determined that staying longer to listen to the doctor will just give him more bad news.

“In the intensive care unit we usually only allow families. But since I’m a huge fan, I will allow you guys to visit Mr. May. But just keep it no more than three at a time.” The doctor smiled.

“We are family.” Freddie’s voice was assertive as he walked past the doctor.

“And Mr. John Deacon?” John heard his name as he was getting ready to walk out of the door of the waiting room. He turned around and looked at the doctor quizzically.

“I just wanted to let you know that Mr. May made you the power of attorney to make medical decisions for him if is unable to do so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell, this story is going to be combination of multiple stories fitting in this universe. Chronology for hepatitis is off, but it fits better here according to this universe anyway. Hope you enjoyed, comments would be appreciated, more to come later.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little angsty in the following couple of chapters. Sorry I can't help it.

As the three friends managed to get through the maze that is the hospital to fine their beloved guitarist, to their disappointment, Brian did not look any better than when he was on the plane. Still jaundiced, eyes still closed, still no tone in muscles, what is more are the tubings that are coming out of his arm. John sat by the side of the bed, making some room for Freddie and Roger. He grabbed Brian’s right hand that was free from the tubing and gently rubbed the palm with the pad of his thumb. As if awaken by his touch, Brian smiled weakly and a slit opened between the eyelids allowing John to get a glimpse of the hazel eyes.

“Hey Deaky,” Brian whispered. “You are still here.”

“Of course I’m here Brian.” John whispered back, cupping Brian’s face and tucking the dark curls behind his ear. “I will always be here.”

“I was just thinking…what you wanted for dinner.” Brian’s words were slurred and hazel eyes disappeared behind the long lashes again.

John looked at Roger questioningly, who shook his head. Confusion is part of the disease; the doctors’ words rang in his ear.

“Oh god.” Freddie choked out a sob on the other side of the bed, causing Roger to put an arm around him.

The seriousness of Brian’s condition, even though described by the grim words of the doctor, did not hit home with the other 3 members of Queen until they saw the guitarist laying on the huge ICU bed mumbling non-sense as if drunk. Hospital is really an interesting place. It is not quiet or peaceful by any means, yet it forces one to reflect on things that they do not want ever want to face.  John never thought himself as an introspective person. He was quiet. He was cerebral. But he never thought that much. He was much more a hands-on technical person. That’s why he studied electrical engineering. That’s why he built his own amplifier. In the early days of the band, he was practically the electrician for maintaining and repairing all the musical instruments.

But sitting crammed in the small space of Brian’s bed in the ICU, having not getting a wink of sleep in the past 24 hours, John was forced to reflect. Power of attorney, making medical decisions, what do all those things mean. Those words scared John. He didn’t want the that power to make decisions for anyone, let alone Brian.

John’s mind drifted away. He felt as if his life was playing in front of his eyes. Except, it didn’t seem like him, just someone who looked and talked remarkably similar to him. In the other universe, did Brian get sick? John vaguely remembered that he did. Though it was not him sitting by Brian’s side, holding his hand. He was merely standing from afar staring at Brian from outside the window. And he definitely did not have the power to make any decisions regarding Brian.

In this universe, did Brian get better? John vaguely remembered that he did pull through and they were together for years to come. However, to John’s surprise, those images did not make him feel any less scared. He could not tell which one is the reality or maybe none of them is. Maybe there are more than those two universes that John got a glimpse at. Maybe there are two hundred and thirty-seven or six hundred and eight four universes. Then in this universe, would Brian be able to pull through? God, John felt his head hurt. These were Brian’s specialty. He was the physicist. Now John didn’t know whether it was a blessing to had a chance to see the future or just added to the confusion and burden of real life.

In a confined space with no clock on the wall and no windows near-by, there is no perspective of time. The three bandmates had no idea how long they sat there, leaning against each other for support. They didn’t know or care what was happening in the world around them, or even what was happening to the man on the next bed who seemed to be actively dying. In a place like this, in the face of life and death, everyone was the same. The rich, the poor, the saints, the scums, the magicians, the dwarfs, the gays or homophobes, no one escapes death.

A nurse came to the bedside to check on Brian and take some vital signs. John noticed a hitch in her breath when she saw Brian’s right arm that startled him.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, making no attempt to hide the anxiety on his face or concern in his voice.

“It’s this black streak on his arm. I don’t think it was that big couple of hours ago.” The nurse pointed to Brian’s right arm. She quickly shook her head. “It’s probably nothing. I will get the doctor to check on him.”

John stared at Brian’s right arm. She was right, that streak had grown in size just during the time they sat there. Not that they had any idea how long that was. John gently touched the streak with his fingertips. It felt glossy and cold, as if dead. A feeling of impending doom came to John’s heart.

“Holy shit.” Roger gasped.

“What is it Roger?” Freddie asked.

Before Roger had a chance to answer, a group of doctors rushed to the bedside. John could tell the doctors’ face turned visibly white when they saw the black streak on Brian’s arm.

“Mr. Mercury, Mr. Taylor, and Mr. Deacon, I will need talk to you.” The doctor who spoke with them earlier said solemnly.

Three of them found themselves to be ushered back to the waiting room.

“Can you please tell us what the hell is going on?” Freddie almost yelled. And he would have been louder too, if it wasn’t for John’s calming hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m afraid I have some bad news.” The doctor started with a sigh. “That black streak on Mr. May’s right arm is the start of gangrene. That means the skin and muscle tissues surrounding it are dead or actively dying. It is not common but does occur with some type of hepatitis. We have to act fast and take control of it before it spread to the whole arm, and eventually the rest of the body.”

John and Freddie were too stunned to speak. Roger, having guessed what it was, was somewhat successfully feigning some calmness and asked. “How are you planning to take control of it?”

“That would be surgical removal.” The doctor said slowly, at the same time gauging the reaction from the three musicians. “My professional recommendation would be to amputate the arm before it spreads any further.”

“No fucking way!” Freddie shrieked, gathering attention from the rest of the waiting room.

“Is, is there any other option?” John squeezed Freddie’s shoulder and asked in a surprisingly cool voice.

“There is. We can do a wide debridement of the arm and try to locally control the gangrene. But despite our best effort, there is no guarantee that it wouldn’t continue to spread to the rest of the body. You have to remember that when it spreads beyond the arm, there will be no way of controlling it. The consequences would be catastrophic.” The doctor replied gravely.

“There is no way in hell you are cutting off his arm.” John announced firmly.

“But..” Before the doctor had the chance to refute, the nurse that was checking on Brian earlier walked up to the group and asked, “Mr. John Deacon?”

“Yes?” John turned around to face her.

“Mr. May is still somewhat confused, but he is asking for you.”

John immediately walked out of the door. However, the nurse stopped Roger and Freddie when they tried to follow the bassist. “That bed space is already very crowded. It’s best if just Mr. Deacon went.”

“Brian?” John sat down again on Brian’s bed grabbing his hand, ignoring the group of doctors discussing quietly at the foot of the bed.

Brian’s hazel eyes reappeared behind the brown lashes. “Deaky,” he whispered, “I think I’m really sick. Am I dying?”

Tears steaming down his cheeks, John still managed a smile, “you are quite sick, but you will be alright. Just hang in there, okay?”

Brian shook his head, strands of dark curl falling against his face, which John tucked behind his ear, “I think I had a dream that they were talking about cutting off my right arm.”

John choked on a sob.

“It’s not a dream then. Am I right Deaky?” Though barely having enough energy to breath, John could still feel Brian squeezing his hand with all his might. “Deaky, promise me. Promise me you would never let them cut off my arm. I would rather die than not being able to play my Red Special.”

John buried his face on Brian’s chest, shoulders shaking from uncontrollable sobs. As if taking a cue for the need of privacy, the group of doctors left them alone and continued their treatment discussion outside.

“Brian.” John wept, “I love you. I can’t lose you.”

Tugging on the IV tubing, Brian struggled to put his left hand on the back of John’s head, combing through the brown locks, “I love you too Deaky. And I’m sorry if I have to leave you. I hope we have better luck next life. But please promise me. Don’t let me wake up with my arm gone. I would rather die a thousand times.”

Some of those words sounded so familiar to John that gave him a shiver down his spine. He wiped his tears on Brian’s hospital gown and looked up to the guitarist’s hazel eyes. “I can promise Brian that I won’t allow them to cut off your arm, but you have to promise me.” John took a deep breath, “that you won’t give up and you will come back to me.”

Brian shot John a bright smile, as bright as jaundiced face could muster, “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always this time of the year that I wished I lived somewhere warm. Good thing this fandom is keeping me from being depressed. Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated. :D.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed the rating of this one to mature. Not for this chapter but for the chapters to follow. Also added more tags. I really should learn how to tag.   
> More angst here, sorry. It will get happier soon I promise.

After leaving Brian, John told the doctors clearly that he agreed to surgical debridement, but under no condition will they be amputating Brian’s arm no matter how much they tried to convince him. In the end, it’s a losing battle because legally, John had the power to make medical decisions.

Now the doctors and nurses are gone to prepare Brian for the surgery, it was just the three bandmates, this time along in the quiet waiting room.

“Are you sure you are thinking straight John?” Roger bellowed while pacing back and forth. “Did you not hear that he could die?”

“Yes Roger. For the thousandth time. I am sure. Brian told me loud and clear in plain English that he would rather die than living without an arm.” John rubbed his temple trying to get rid of a killer headache.

“He is not thinking clearly! You know the disease is messing with his head. And apparently, you are not thinking clearly either.”

“Roger. I’m not changing my mind so you might as well save some energy.” John’s face was harsh and unyielding, totally different from his normally mild demeanor.

“Fuck you, John!” Roger spat. “You know what you are fuckin doing? You are murdering him!”

“Roger.” Freddie intercepted. “Stop, just be quiet for a bit.”

The blond turned to face Freddie, “how can you just sit here and let John murder Brian?”

“Deaky has a point. Brian would be devastated if he can’t play his Red Special anymore.” Freddie sighed, “and if that’s Brian’s wish, then we respect it.”

“You are mad! Both of you. Brian is sick. He’s confused. Has Brian talked coherently to you since he got in this hospital? Which, by the way, was also John’s idea.” Roger shot an icy glare at the bassist, “if we got him treated in Japan and didn’t waste all the time flying back, none of this would have happened! This is all your fault by the way.”

John lit a cigarate and didn’t respond, pretending those words did not stung the softest part of his heart.

“Roger…”

“Don’t you tell me to shut up. Brian’s life is so much more than just playing guitar, just being in Queen.” Roger’s voice cracked while tears streamed down his pretty face, “he’s a wonderful person, a brilliant scientist. He can continue his work on fighting for animal rights. He can go back to astrophysics.”

“Yes, then why did he dropped out of his doctorate to be a full-time rock star.” John puffed a smoke and said in a more sarcastic tone than he intended. Even with that John still did not expect Roger’s knuckles to make raw contact with his jaw, knocking him to the floor bringing the plastic chair with him. Before he had a chance to react, John felt a few more of Roger’s boot-print on his stomach until Freddie got a tight hold on the drummer.

Trembling uncontrollably in Freddie’s arms, Roger sobbed. “I will never forgive you if Brian dies because of this.”

“He won’t.” Freddie weaved his fingers through Roger’s blond locks, letting Roger weep his guts on his shoulder.

John struggled to help himself up and stumbled to tidy the chairs before curling up in the couch at the far corner of the waiting room.

“I can’t do this.” After Roger’s sobs quieted down, he looked at John again. “No matter how much you claim to love Brian, I knew him the longest. I’m not going to let you kill him. I’m…I’m going to call his parents. They will agree with me.” Roger stammered and ran toward the door.

“Roger!” Freddie yelled, getting ready to chase behind him.

“Let him do it. His parents should be notified” John’s quiet voice from the corner of the room surprised the singer. Freddie walked over to sit beside the bassist, who looked unbelievably small crouching at the end of the couch puffing a cigarate while an ugly bruise is starting to form marring his delicate features.

Freddie gave the younger man a weak smile and sat down beside him. “Don’t be mad at Rog, Deaky. He’s just jumbled with emotions over Brian. They had been best mates for 13 years.”

“I know.” John sighed.

“But Deaky,” Freddie asked in an ever so serious tone that John had not heard from the singer for a long time, “are you absolutely sure about this. We could really lose Brian.”

John killed the cigarate butt in the ashtray on the table beside the couch. He turned to the older man and stared at him deep in his brown eyes, “we are not going to lose Brian.”

Freddie looked at John in awe. He often prided himself in being able to predict people fairly accurately. That’s why he is such a headache for all reporters and TV show hosts. However, many times Freddie did think their youngest bandmate was the most difficult to read. John could be so soft and delicate at times but when you least expect it, he would show so much courage and resilience under stress.  

Freddie nodded and patted John’s shoulder, “I believe you darling.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, passing off cigarates and lighters to one another and puffing away in a cloud of smoke. For God knows how long or after how many cigarates, Freddie coughed and felt he was suffocating from the smoke. He got up to open the window, only then did he realize it was pitch black outside.

As if the chilly late November night air gave woke him up and gave him some perspective of time, Freddie chuckled sheepishly at John, “I should go see if I can find Roger, make sure he hasn’t done anything stupid.”

John nodded, “I will be here.”

As soon as Freddie left the waiting room he realized that he had no idea where to find Roger. Consequently, he wandered aimlessly in the deserted hospital corridors with the noxious smell of bleach filling his nostrils asking around for any access to telephones. He finally found the drummer, in the courtyard outside the hospital building, sitting on the lounge chairs by a telephone booth. Despite the near freezing weather of November night, the drummer was only in a t-shirt, shivering like a leaf in the wind.

“Roger, there you are.” Freddie hurried over putting an arm around the younger man. “What are you doing here in the cold, you will freeze your balls off. Did you talk to Brian’s parents?”

Roger shook his messy blond head, “couldn’t reach them. Their phone message said they were on a trip to Canada or something.”

“Then let’s go back inside. We can’t have you sick as well.” Freddie tried unsuccessfully lifting Roger up to a standing position from the lounge chair.

Freddie sighed. Roger had no intention of moving. He resolved to sitting down beside the drummer while taking off his leather jacket and put it on Roger’s shoulders. It was a crisp, clear night, very uncommon for London that rained more than two thirds of the time, especially in winter. It would be a beautiful night if it wasn’t so cold and they didn’t have to face the heart wrenching truth that one of their best friends’ is fighting for his life.

Freddie looked up into the starry sky. Brian always talked how their universe formed merely by chance and there are likely infinite number of other universes beyond their speculations. Freddie was an artist. His mind was made to be creative. He did not want to bore his brain with nerdy thoughts like that. However, looking at the stars that are blinking back at him, with Brian in surgery near death’s door, Freddie can’t help but wonder maybe there are other universes out there. Ones that he never met Brian and Roger, ones that Queen was never formed, ones that they never found Deaky, ones that Brian didn’t get sick…

“I shouldn’t have hit Deaky. I shouldn’t have said those awful things to him.” Roger’s solemn voice brought Freddie out of his daze. “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing Brian, when there was another option.”

Freddie hugged the drummer close to him, allowing Roger’s blond head to rest on his shoulder. “Darling, if that’s Brian’s wish, then we should respect that. Just imagine how Brian would feel waking up without his right arm, without ever being able to play his beloved Red Special again. He has so much pride.”

“I know.” Roger nodded. “It’s also Deaky. He’s so calm and unattached when he said those things, like if he didn’t know or care about Brian at all. Drives me mad.”

Freddie chuckled. “Deaky’s hard to predict, able to keep a clear mind at time like this. I guess that’s why Brian trusted him with his life.” He rubbed Roger’s arm, “don’t worry, Deaky’s not mad at you. I’m sure he’s in there just as calm as we left him, puffing away smoke. And dear, we really need to get you inside.”

After multiple coercions of free booze, Roger finally allowed the older man to drag him back inside the hospital.

Just as Freddie said, John sat there in the corner of the waiting room alone and puffing away smoke like a chimney. He wanted to cry, but his eyes were dry of tears. The freezing chills from the window that Freddie left open did not bother John. Actually, John was pretty sure if it wasn’t for that open window, he would have got carbon monoxide poisoning from all that smoke.

This is all your fault. Roger’s words still stung him. Maybe the drummer was right. John wondered if he had made any right decisions in his life? About playing bass, about quitting his Masters, about joining Queen, about Veronica, about Brian. How could he be trusted with someone else’s life when he couldn’t even get a good control of his own.

Agile fingers grabbed the half smoked cigarate from his hand and thrashed it in the ashtray, which had at least 30 cigarate butts. It was Freddie, who was mumbling to himself, “how the hell could you still breathe.” Might as well, John sighed, it was his last one.

“Deaky,” Roger’s shaky voice made John look up. The drummer was still trembling. “’m sorry.” And he really was, especially when he saw the ugly bruise that was rapidly forming on the bassist’s delicate jaw and the swollen lip from John’s own bite.

John smiled sheepishly and stood up, almost tripping to ground with feet falling asleep from the immobility if it wasn’t for Roger catching him. They hugged, lightly but longingly, both for warmth and for the need of human contact. They didn’t say anything to each other because there is no need. All was forgiven. No hard feelings. They didn’t want to let go and they didn’t realize when Freddie joined them in the group hug.

That is how the doctor found them. Huddled together in the corner of the waiting room. This scene made him believe another night with no sleep and hard work in the operating theater was worth it. The three bandmates broke up when they heard the doctor’s voice.

“Mr. May is out of surgery.” The doctor’s face was tired but eyes beamed with hope. “We did a wide debridement and I believe we got rid of all the dead tissue. He is stable currently. We still need to monitor him closely in the next couple of days for recurrence of the gangrene but I think we were able to save his arm. He still has a tube in his throat to help him breathe and still asleep from the anesthetic, but you can go see him.”

Freddie went up to give the doctor a hug. Roger jumped up and down. Meanwhile, John actually fainted to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, in modern days, smoking is prohibited within like 50 feet of the hospital. But that was the 70s, i figured people smoke way more and allowed to be smoking in a lot of public places including hospitals. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments would be appreciated. :D


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mature content in this chapter. I'm really not good at writing smut, need more practice. This polar vortex has really imprisoned me at home to write this. :D.

John’s impromptu timing for the faint caused some unnecessary drama in the hospital almost resulting in another trip to the emergency room. Luckily, Freddie and Roger were able to convince the doctor to not waste the nation’s resources. It’s nothing some food and sleep won’t fix.

The incident, however, did gave them an excuse to force the bassist and themselves to get some long-needed rest. Since Brian was still unconscious to the world, they decided to let him sleep off the anesthetic while they took a break for themselves. Long gone were the days that the four of them shared the same flat. But at this point, neither of them wanted to be alone. They decided to gather in Freddie’s flat which was the closest to the hospital and all slumped on his king-sized bed.

The next few days the boys all spent in the hospital, albeit not really by their choice. Jim Beach came back to London after settling affairs in Japan which was a great help to them. However, the press also got the wind of Brian’s condition and were camping outside the hospital. As a result, the members of Queen were essentially imprisoned inside the hospital building. None of them had any minute interest in talking with the press. Nevertheless, when the tabloid started spreading rumors about how Brian contracted hepatitis, Freddie had to go outside and put them in their place.

Consequently, Freddie, Roger, and John made home in Brian’s room in the hospital, which was a VIP room because everyone was a fan. The doctors said Brian was not out of the woods yet but he had looked significantly better day by day. The tube in his throat came out the following day after surgery but it did take a couple of days before Brian became clearer in his head and able to carry a logical conversation, despite only being awake a few hours during the day. Otherwise he was sedated by the effect of the liver dysfunction and pain medications. The sickening yellowish tinge slowly faded away and his skins became paler than before. His right arm was healing better than anyone fathomed with no sign of recurrence of gangrene. Until even the most conservative doctor in the group said Brian is likely going to be well, the three friends let out a deep breath.

John will forever remember that period of time they all crammed in the hospital. It reminded him of the simpler days before the band became big and the four of them shared the same flat. Back then he never thought they would fly as they did eventually. During those long nights when the beeping of the various equipment chased his sleep away, he laid there and thought what an irony it was that one of the most popular rock bands in the world is forced to stay in the room that is smaller than his closet. They took turns sleeping on the couch while the other two slept on the floor. They all sat with the guitarist, Freddie sang, Roger chattered, while John mainly just remained silent.

Early this morning, even before dawn broke, John realized he woke up way earlier than he liked, yet again. He got up, careful not to wake his other two bandmates, and decided to go to the waiting room for a smoke. When John came back, to his surprise, he saw Brian sitting up in bed, eyes wide open in the dark room.

 “Brian!” John rushed to the bedside, “what woke you up so early?”

“Had a dream.” Brian said shakily, “you were gone. And when I woke up, you really were gone.”

“I’m sorry Brian.” John rubbed the elder’s man left arm, “I just went out for a smoke. I didn’t think you would wake up so early.”

Sitting close, John realized Brian was shivering. He put his hand on Brian’s forehead. No fever, but he felt a sheet of beads of sweat. John was immediately alarmed, this can’t be all from a dream.

“Brian what’s wrong? You are shaking and sweating. Are you feeling alright?” John asked, “are you in pain.”

Brian didn’t respond but John could read the grimace on the guitarist’s face even in the dark room. He got up to call the nurse for pain medications but immediately felt Brian pulling him back down onto the bed.

“Brian why are you stopping me? You are in pain. You need medication.” John was becoming agitated, but tried hard to keep his voice in control when he remembered Roger and Freddie were still asleep on the floor.

Brian shook his head, voice still shaky, “I don’t like them. Those things make me so sleepy. I already can’t keep my eyes open for much of the day. I would rather to savor those precious moments awake and spend them with you. I miss you Deaky.”

Brian’s words strung the deepest chords in John’s heart. He snuggled close to Brian’s side and leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder. With Brian’s scent filling his nostrils, John felt he is exactly where he is meant to be.

“I miss you too Brian.” John’s voice cracked, “I want to spend these moments with you. I want to spend every moment with you. But it breaks my heart to see you suffering. You scared the shit out of me this time.”

Brian’s good left arm tightly wrapped around John’s small torso, tangling with the IV tubings. He kissed the brown locks on top of John’s head. “I’m sorry Deaky. It’s been a miserable week for you. And thank you for being firm about not letting them cutting off my arm. I know it’s not easy. Roger told me so while you were asleep one time.”

John looked up to Brian, “what did he say?”

“Well you have an obvious bruise on the jaw, I just asked what happened. Roger said he was mad and punched you. He apologized and still felt horrible about it. You are so amazing Deaky, I don’t know if I would be able to accomplish the same thing.” Brian gently touched John’s jaw and asked, “does it still hurt?”

John shook his head.

Brian rubbed the corner of John’s mouth with the pad of his thumb. “I will make it up to you.”

He leaned down to press his lips to John’s, nibbling first and tongue asking for entrance. John returned the kiss with fervors passion, tongue reaching deep into Brian’s throat. He felt that a part of body he had forgotten about these past couple of days stirring and waking up.

“God, I miss this so much.” Brian whispered into his lips. John made a mistake of shifting his position in bed to lean closer to Brian, causing his hard-on to accidentally press Brian’s thigh. Brian shot him almost a surprised look causing John to blush down to the chest. Brian smiled mischievously and put his left hand in between John’s legs, “we got to take care of that.”

John’s breath hitched but he heard giggles from the other side of the hospital room. To his horror, their two other bandmates are both very awake, now moved to the couch and ready to watch the show in front of them.

Embarrassed was an understatement. John wished that a black hole would form on the floor that would swallow him in. He murmured some nonsense words and ran out of the door as soon as he was able.

Brian shot Freddie and Roger an annoyed look, “wankers.”

“Hey, speak for yourself Brian.” Freddie hummed.

***************************************************************

The day that Brian was able to escape the prison of the hospital room had finally came. In the morning John first made sure that Brian’s flat was in living condition, especially to the guitarist’s obsessively neat standards, and the fridge was stocked with grocery before going back to the hospital room that he had been so familiar with for the past three weeks. Their other two bandmates were already in there chattering away.

“It’s great that you are able to go home before Christmas dear, but are you sure you are ready?” Freddie’s magnetic voice could be heard far outside the door.

“My parents are coming back from Canada tomorrow. Do you want to explain to them why I spent three weeks in the hospital? Because I sure don’t.” Brian stuck out his tongue at the singer while tidying up his personal belongings, taking longer time because his right arm was still weak.

“You will have to. Look at your arm? What are you going to say? Riding accident?” Roger chuckled.

“Great idea Roger. For all your information, I fell off a horse and that’s why my arm is in a sling. Okay?” Brian nodded and raised his eyebrows.

“Whatever you want Brian.” Freddie shook his head in dismay.

“Don’t know what is worse, spending Christmas in hospital or spending it with parents.” John commented in his sassiest voice as he walked into the room.

“Deaky always has the best holiday spirit.” Freddie replied sarcastically.

John tip toed to give Brian a peck on the cheek and asked, “ready to go Brian?”

“Pretty much.” Brian nodded.

As everyone looked around the room to make sure nothing was forgotten, Roger and Freddie started to help Brian carry the bags. John suddenly announced in a rather serious tone, “guys, can I ask you for a favor?”

A bit surprised, three pairs of eyes focused on John. “Sure, what’s up Deaks?” Roger asked.

John took a deep breath. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. Those were his best friends. They were family. “It’s Veronica. You guys still remember her?” John started, “she’s getting married in April and invited me to the wedding. I was wondering my wedding gift to her would be us performing live at her reception. I asked Miami and he said we should be able to do it. What do you guys think? There will be an open bar…”

“Dear you are the best ex-boyfriend ever.” Freddie patted John’s back, “of course we will do it.”

“Hell yeah. I do anything for free booze.” Roger smirked.

John looked up at Brian who looked back at him with a loving smile. The guitarist long arm snaked around his shoulder was they walked out of the hospital.

************************************************************

After John sent out their last guest from Brian’s flat where all their friends gathered for a welcome home surprise party for Brian, he went back inside to check on his lover. Brian was quietly resting on bed. He must have been wiped out. After all, it was only his first day out of the hospital.

John pulled shoes off Brian’s feet and tucked him under a blanket. As he was about to leave, he felt Brian grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the bed.

“I thought you were asleep. How are you feeling? Tired?” John snuggled to Brian’s left side.

“Mhmm.” Brian hummed lightly.

“I know, they could be a handful.” John sighed happily.

Brian leaned down to kiss the bassist on the lips, softly at first then with increasing passion and fervor. John felt a stream of warmth coming rushing down from his head to the groin. It didn’t help as Brian’s hand was sliding down and started to rub his denim covered ass. Parts of his were definitely waking up.

“God I miss you so much Deaky.” Brian’s murmured into the kiss, left hand now sneaking up the hem of John’s shirt and drawing circles on his bare back. “I want you now.”

John’s breath hitched and already felt his jeans was getting tight. He wanted Brian too. This had been a long three weeks. They almost tried a couple of times in the hospital room but was always interrupted at the worst time.

“But it’s against the doctor’s orders. Are you sure you are up for it? You look like you are wiped out.” John started tracing Brian’s nipples through his t-shirt.

“Well, you will just have to do most of the work.” Brian winked at him.

John smiled and kicked off his shoes. He climbed on top of Brian and straddled his legs. At the first touches of the tongue John nearly faltered. He felt himself unraveling, pent up lust and desire making him wild and desperate. He nibbled and traced down Brian’s jaw to the neck to collar bone and then back to the lips. Hands roaming freely under Brian’s loose t-shirt, lip lock only breaking to pull the hinderance off Brian’s torso.

John swiftly wiggled out of his own shirt. Now both naked from waist up, they pressed together and started kissing again. Being three weeks apart physically, they felt like they were relearning each other’s bodies again and savoring every moment of it. Bodies writhing together, erections rocking against each other. Though Brian only had one hand really mobile, that didn’t stop him from roaming all over the smaller man’s body.

John started to unbuckle Brian’s belt while the guitarist tugged on the hem of John’s jeans. Brian had lost quite some weight during this ordeal so the trousers slipped off too easily. John’s denim took a bit more work mostly getting caught on his bulging erection. When finally, free from all forms of constraints and they are gloriously naked, John pressed their erections together. John’s heavy kisses made Brian’s toes curl with want. One minute the teeth nipped at his lower lip, the next minute the tip of the tongue tickled the roof of his mouth. Keeping up with the next trick was impossible so Brian gladly relaxed at allowed the younger man to take control. Pleasure engulfed him, clouding his mind and burning all his nerves.

Brian grabbed John’s hips with his left hand and thrusted up, desperate for any tension or relief, for any sensation of contact really. John moved away from his lips and left a trail of kisses and bites along down his chest, paying special attention to his nipples with laps. Brian’s body betrayed him again as he lifted his hips up, trying to bring his erection in contact with something. “Shit… Deaky.”

“Are you enjoying this?” John breathed into his sweaty stomach.

“I would have to be dead not to.” Brian answered once he was able to breath.

John immediately covered Brian’s mouth with his hand, “I never want to hear that word from your mouth.”

He wrapped his fist around Brian’s erection causing the guitarist to moan nonsense words. He lowered his head down to softly suck, tightening and drawing back at the sound of Brian’s moans and sighs. John kept their gazes together as he spun his tongue around the head. A groan broke from the guitarist as John encircled Brian’s balls with his fingers.

Brian lifted John’s chin up, “Deaky, I can’t last very long. I want to.. I need to..”

Understanding what his lover meant, John nodded. Brian reached over to open the drawer of the night stand and gave John at tube of lube.

“Stretch yourself for me, Deaky.” Left hand on John’s shoulder, Brian watched the younger man squeezed some lube on his fingers and reached behind him. It’s a beautiful sight really, to see the bassist eyes roll back, snog swollen lips parted as he was preparing himself while teasing on the way. It had been three weeks but John did not really have the patience to wait very long with his bulging cock bouncing on Brian’s thigh.

As soon as three fingers went in, John grabbed Brian’s erection and helped himself to sink down, taking the older man by surprise. The moment of connection caused both men to moan and mumble a stream of non-sensible words.

“Oh shit, Deaks. You are so tight. Oh shit..”

John lifted his hips up but almost immediately sank back down, rocking his hips back and forth, riding Brian slow and hard. His arched his back as he grinded on Brian’s pelvic bone. Brian took the chance to wrap John’s weeping cock in his left hand, fingers rubbing circles on the tip.

“Oh God, Brian. I love you so much.” It only took a few strokes before John saw a flash of white light, spilling all over Brian’s chest. Ring of muscles spasming tightening around Brian’s cock.

“I love you too Deaky.”

John felt a stream of warmth as Brian came inside him, filling him up. He collapsed on top of Brian as they became glued together by sweat and cum. Brian somehow mustered the energy to go to the loo to get a cloth and cleaned them both up. As soon as he returned to bed, John snuggled to his side.

“Deaky, can you do something for me?” Brian kissed the younger man’s sweaty brown locks, knowing that at this moment John probably would promise him the world if he asked.

“Hmm?” John let out a satiated sigh.

“Can you stop with the cigarates? For me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this little hepatitis section. No worries, this alternate universe has a lot more stories in store. Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter are from the previous work Decisions. You can skip if you read the previous work.

1977

“…Do you take this woman, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, until death do thou apart…”

 “John!” Upon hearing his name, John turned around to see Veronica still in her wedding gown walking toward him.

“Ronnie.” John opened his arms and gave his former girlfriend a hug. “Congratulations Ronnie! Beautiful ceremony.

“Thanks. I’m so glad you could come John.” Veronica let go of John, turning around to the man beside her, “John, you have met my husband Richard right?”

John nodded, offering his hand the groom. “Congratulations.”

“Glad you could make it. I’m a big fan of Queen. Can’t wait for you to play.” Richard shook John’s hand. Noticing that his newly wed wife seemed want to talk to the smaller man alone, Richard excused himself to go greet other guests.

John took Veronica’s hands in his, “Really Ronnie. I am so happy for you. Richard seems like a great guy. Listen, about before, I can’t help but apologize again…”

“Stop John.” Veronica squeezed John’s hand and smiled, “it’s all in the past. I was hurt, a lot, but not anymore. At least you were honest with me. And if we didn’t break up, how would I have ever met Richard? He is a great guy. I am lucky to have him. I hope we can stay friends.”

John kissed Veronica’s hands, “I would love that, Ronnie.”

“How are you John?” Veronica asked.

“I couldn’t be better.” John grinned ear to ear.

“I’m happy for you too John.” Veronica smiled, eyeing Brian standing not too far away watching them. She took her hand and gently brushed John’s brown hair, “your life will be difficult, John. But please know that you will always have my support. Hang in there and I know you will power through.”

She leaned in and lightly kissed John’s cheek. “Say hi to the boys for me.” With that, Veronica left to find her newly wed husband.

Maybe a little jealousy burning in his stomach as Brian watched the intimate gestures between John and Veronica, he walked over and possessively put an arm around the younger man’s shoulders.

“Do you regret this is not your wedding, Deaky?” Brian asked quietly.

John looked up at him in amusement, “do you regret not marrying Chrissie, Brian?”

Brian shook his head, “nah, weddings are overrated.”

“I agree.” John chuckled.

“Come on,” Brian slapped John’s shoulder, “we got to find Roger and Freddie. It’s almost time for us to play. This open bar is a bad idea, I bet they are wasted already.”

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls. Today we have the honor of having one of the most popular rock band in England and the world performing live at this reception in celebration of the love between Richard and Veronica. Now let’s invite the bride and the groom on the dance floor to share their first dance as husband and wife. And let’s give a warm welcome to Queen!”

The crowd of guests went wild. Freddie sat by the electronic piano and started the soft ballad of Love of My Life. Brian and John looked at each other longingly across the stage and smiled while the pair of newly wed moved gracefully on the dance floor.

1981

“Welcome darlings. Paul, would you please take their coats.” Freddie gave Brian and John a big hug as they entered the gorgeous mansion called Garden Lodge in Kensington.

“So this is your estate, Lord Mercury.” Brian joked as he and John looked at the magnificent establishment in awe.

“Yes, come. I will show you around.” Freddie grabbed his friend’s hands and led them on a tour of the mansion. Each one of my cats will have its own room. This is Jerry’s. That is for Delilah. Tiffany’s room is downstairs, even bigger than this one, spoiled thing.”

John thought about his own modest house that he modest house in southwest of London that he bought with his first royalty cheque. Each of the cat’s room that Freddie is showing them seems to be bigger than his whole first floor.

“And I also bought the cottage next door for Mary. She’s already moved in.” Freddie chattered on excitedly. He twirled around and looked at his friends expectantly, “so what do you think dears?”

“You have really outdone yourself, Freddie. It’s glorious.” Brian smiled and patted him on the back.

“Deaky?” Freddie turned to John.

“Marvelous Freddie. Simply marvelous.” John replied.

“You both are too sweet.” Freddie squeezed both Brian and John’s hands, “you two should get one of these places too you know. Come on, you can afford it.”

Brian and John looked at each other. Despite spending majority of their times together on and off tours, they still lived in separate houses officially. To John, moving to live in the same house means coming out to everyone, including his parents, siblings, and the general public. He was not sure if they were ready for that quite yet, and didn’t know what the implications that would have on their career as Queen.

“Okay, you two love birds can stare at each other later.” Freddie’s sing song voice cut off John’s thoughts, “come, there is some one I would like you to meet.”

Freddie brought them to a man in early thirties, sturdy and handsome, with short brown hair and well groomed mustache.

“This is Jim, Jim Hutton.” Freddie introduced him to his bandmates, “Jim, this is Brian and John.”

After Brian and John each shook hands with Jim, Freddie grabbed Jim’s hand and said, “Jim is my special friend.”

Freddie had always kept his personal life private from everyone, including his closest friends. But it was not hard to guess his sexuality from the types of parties and clubs he liked to attend. Nevertheless, introducing Jim to them was still the first time Freddie openly talked about his relationship, causing Brian and John to be a little startled.

As Freddie went to greet other guests like a social butterfly, Brian and John grabbed drinks and sat with Jim on the couch.

“So how did you and Fred meet?” Brian was curious about the man that somehow became a permanent fixture of their promiscuous friend’s romantic life.

“Well, a year ago, he came into the salon I worked and wanted to cut his hair short. I ended up being his hairdresser and we got talking.” Jim smiled as he reminisced. “Silly me, I didn’t actually recognize him then, just thought he was a beautiful and interesting man. Then a couple of weeks later, we met again at a club. I definitely recognized him this time. He bought me a drink and we just hit it off.”

John raised his eyebrows. “Wow, it’s been this long? He definitely hid you well.”

Jim grinned bashfully, “we dated and saw more and more of each other. When he bought this house, he asked me to come and live with him. And I couldn’t find a reason to say no.” 

“Jim love,” Freddie fluttered by, “can you get Roger there more booze? And you two,” Freddie looked at Brian and John, “don’t just sit on your ass like old ladies, come up and dance.”

“Not drunk enough yet Fred.” Brian called out to Freddie after taking a gulp of his beer.

“So Deaky, what do you think about Jim?” Brian asked after Freddie finally left them alone.

“He seems like a nice guy. I think he will be good for Freddie.” John replied, genuinely happy for their friend.

“What do you think about them living together in this house?” Brian put his free arm around John’s shoulder.

“It’s cute.” John replied, “and this is certainly a big enough house.”

“Do you think it’s a trend that we should be following?” Brian asked while looking straight at the group of dancers in front avoiding John’s eyes.

Caught off guard, John looked at Brian. Under the dim light of the ball room, Brian looked flushed with influence of alcohol. Even after so many years, John could still feel his heart flutter at how handsome Brian is.

“Are you asking what I think you are asking Brian?” John whispered to his lover’s ear.

Brian smiled lovingly at John, “don’t be daft Deaky. You know very well I am asking you to live with me.”

John’s heart soared but he couldn’t help but feeling scared at the same time. “Do you think we are ready for that?”

“Come on Deaky. I have known you for more than 10 years. We have even lived together before remember? When we all shared the same flat. I know what you are like.”

John avoided Brian’s gaze and played with the beer bottle in his hands. He inhaled sharply, “but that also means…”

“Yes, Deaky. That means announcing to everyone that we are together.” Brian tightened his arm around John. “It’s normal to be scared Deaky. I’m scared too. As for the people who stop liking our music because of this, they can go fuck themselves. Just think about it okay?”

John’s mind flooded with the images of Brian; the first time they met; the first time he tasted Brian’s lips; the first time he felt Brian inside of him…It’s hard to believe that they have known each other for ten years but it’s harder to imagine a life without Brian as his friend, as his lover, as his partner in life. John shuddered at that thought and decided that would not be a life worth living.

Suddenly the music, the voices, and all the dancing bodies seemed to be far distant. John felt he and Brian were the only two people in this room, in this house, in this world.

“Okay.” John replied amongst the loudness of the party.

Brian squeezed John’s shoulder and took another drink of his beer.

John turned to Brian and smiled, “I said okay Brian. I would love to live with you.”

Brian almost choked on his beer causing John to laugh and patted him on his back. He put the bottle down on the floor and cupped John’s face, “really Deaky?”

John nodded with all his might before Brian pressed their lips together and started sucking the life out of the younger man.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Space Era

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe this chapter to many of the fics about the Hot Space era on AO3. It is a time they all hated each other, including Brian and John. Lots of Angst here.

1982

John hated everything about his life nowadays. They had been fighting more about this album than their entire history together. As far as he can remember at least. Years after years of success, album after album of increasing sales, more money than they ever knew what to do with, just bred enormous egos that could not be in the same room together anymore.

John recalled when he first joined the band, when they shared the same flat. Freddie, Brian, and Roger would fight about music all the time. Sometimes it would get heated. Sometimes it would get physical. Such like Brian throwing clogs, Roger throwing drum sticks, Freddie dramatically slamming the door at them. But it was different. It was never personal. At the end of the day, they were still friends. They still had drinks and shared joints together. Of course, John never chimed in those fights in the early days.

This time, things got way more personal. They were vicious toward each other. Four people who knew each other as well as they did and shared so much of their lives together really knew how to push the buttons and hurt each other. And boy did they try hard. Maybe it was because this time, John joined the fights. He was no longer the quiet boy sitting in the corner watching. He was vocal and adamant. He was more involved with the decision-making and songwriting in this album than he ever was before. And he wanted change.

Album, tour, album, tour. The repetition was killing them. More often than not recently, John wondered this couldn’t be what being in a band is all about. If it was, then at least they should experiment different types music. He wanted dance rhythm. He wanted disco. He wanted funk.

In his favor, Freddie supported him. Roger was indifferent, barely sober most of the time anyway. So it was only Brian. John wanted to scratch his eyeballs out when he thought of Brian lately. He admitted, majority of fights within the band stemmed between him and Brian. The Brian whom he loved more than life. The Brian he thought he couldn’t live without.

Now John knew he still loved Brian, but he wondered if he still liked the guitarist. So stubborn, John sighed. And though Brian would never admit it, he was quite vain.

Lucky for John, with Freddie’s support, he found himself to be at the winning end of most of the fights with Brian. The guitarist obviously did not take that well. Nine out of the ten days now end up with Brian throwing a fit and grumpily walking out of the studio.

Barely could stand in the same space together, John had been sleeping alone in his own hotel room. Coming to Munich to record this album was another horrible idea. The lively night scene engulfed Freddie and Roger. They all went out, way too much for John’s liking. The result was that John was the only one ever in the studio before noon. Even that was getting less and less frequent.

John started smoking again, when he had stopped for almost five years, since he promised Brian to quit after he got better from that episode of deadly hepatitis.

He wished this album would be done soon or he didn’t think their 11-year bond as Queen would last much longer. He didn’t think his relationship with Brian could suffer more hurt. John was tired. He wished things were back the way they were. Back to the carefree days when they had scrabble competitions on the tour bus driving through Midwest USA. Back to the soft autumn dawn when Brian kissed him as he played double bass for the song ’39. Even back to the stolen kisses and touches in that hospital bed when Brian just escaped death’s door from the fatal hepatitis.

John sighed and continued to set up the synthesizer for his new song. He knew Brian would throw another fit when he sees this equipment later. Of course, a bigger storm is brewing when the guitarist hears his new song. Oh well, maybe Brian would be so hangover from last night that he decides to skip the studio altogether today. John thought.

“Deaky,” Freddie’s unique voice made the bassist to look up from his equipment. The singer walked over and nodded in approval, “very impressive thing darling. It’s so handy to have you around. I would never know how to set this one up in a million years.”

“Yes Freddie. We all agree your talents should be used elsewhere.” John chuckled, remembering back to more than ten years ago when Freddie tried to help Roger setting up his drums causing Roger to warn the singer never to touch his drums again.

Freddie started to entertain himself by playing the synthesizer until John was satisfied with the set up.

“Let’s play your new song Deaky. Where is the lyric?” The singer turned to John.

John bit his lower lip and handed Freddie a sheet of music. The older man stared at John with wide eyes after he read it. “Deaky,” Freddie asked softly. “Are you sure you want to do this? You burn all my energy, criticizing all you see. Twisting every word I say, wind me up and get your way. You stand so tall you don’t frighten me at all. I can’t even imagine how Brian will be after he hears this.”

John lowered his head and continued to work on the equipment. Freddie sighed. He knew things hadn’t been going well between the two of his best friends. It broke his heart to see two people as in love as Brian and John were to fall out because of music production. He took John under his wings when the bassist first joined the band more than ten years ago and always saw him as his little brother. John had matured so much since those times and he was more than proud. It was true the bassist had never been as assertive as now and the music production of this album was a drastic change from their usual style. But what was wrong with that. Freddie was always up for experimenting with new things and offered John his full support. However, the thick head he was, Brian could not see it that way.

He put an arm around the bassist, “is Brian driving you crazy Deaky?”

John nodded. “Yes. He is so fuckin stubborn and condescending. We fight constantly in the studio, at the hotel, even in the damn night clubs sometimes. He does not approve anything I do. I write bad songs. I have poor music taste. I apparently can’t even order takeout correctly.” John rubbed his temples and sighed. “I’m so tired. I don’t know if we still loved each other anymore.”

“Don’t say that, Deaky.” Freddie rubbed John’s shoulder. “I know you still love him. I’m sure Brian feels the same way.”

 John shook his head, “I don’t know.” He turned to Freddie and forced a smile, “let’s not worry about him though, want to go over the song from the top?”

“Okay.” Freddie nodded.

John started playing on the synthesizer while Freddie started singing following his cue. More than ten years of cooperation they worked seamless together even though it was only their first time going over this new song Back Chat. After they were done, they heard clapping sounds. Freddie and Roger looked up, it was Roger walking toward them from behind the window panes.

“Nice. Did you write it Deaky?” Sunglasses on covering his swollen eyes, the drummer still looked as flashy as ever.

“Yeah, do you like it Roger?” John nodded.

“It’s a catchy tune. You can’t help but dance to it.” Roger showed off some of his dance moves which made Freddie stick out his tongue at John. “Though I doubt Brian would like it.”

“He doesn’t like anything I write.” John mumbled.

“What are you guys talking about.” Brian’s grumpy voice made John startle even before he entered the room. “What the hell is that?” Brian pointed to the instrument John was playing.

“It’s a synthesizer Brian. That’s pretty obvious.” John replied in a more sarcastic voice than he intended.

Brian’s lips pressed into a thin line, “why do we have that thing in here?”

“It’s for Deaky’s new song.” Freddie answered.

“What kind of song would need that?” Brian exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

Anger and frustration had not the foreign to John for the recent weeks. He felt that they are quickly approaching a boiling point again. Brian is so fucking stubborn. He thought. They had been playing the heavy rock Brian liked for more than a decade. No more. John was going to play funk even if it killed him. Though from the furious looks Brian had been throwing him, it was very possible that the guitarist would kill him first.

“Would you stop being so narrow minded.” Freddie stood up for John. “Why can’t you just try something new. Deaky’s new song is quite good actually.”

Roger put a hand on Brian’s shoulder trying to calm him down, “it’s just like trying a new instrument Brian, it might be fun.”

Brian shrugged the drummer’s hand off. “Just watch, you will soon be replaced by the drum machine.”

“Fuck you Brian.” Roger snapped and hid behind his drum set.

Everyone was quiet before they said more things they could regret, still the tension was so thick in the studio. John was contemplating to just pack up and leave, hell with this bullock.

Eventually Brian let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry guys.” He apologized quietly. “Freddie, Deaky, let’s hear the new song.

“Are you sure you want to hear it? You may not like it.” Freddie raised his eyebrows while John stood there turning away from Brian with no intention to move.

“Yes. I want to hear it.” Frustration was creeping in the guitarist voice again. Patience had not been a virtual for Brian recently.

“Alright. You asked for it.” Freddie shrugged his shoulders and motioned John, who started playing the synthesizer reluctantly.

Yeah  
Get back get back  
Back chat back chat  
You burn all my energy  
Back chat back chat  
Criticizing all you see  
Back chat, back chat  
Analyzing what I say  
Back chat, back chat  
And you always get your way

Oh yeah! See what you've done to me  
Back chat, back chat  
It's driving me insane  
Survival to the end  
Knock you down, you come again  
Talk back, talk back  
You've got me on the wrack  
Twisting ev'ry word I say  
Wind me up and get your way  
Fat chance I have of making a romance  
If I'm ever goin' to win  
Have to get the last word in  
Take it from there

Come on now  
Wake up, stand up  
And drag yourself on out  
Get down, get ready  
Scream and shout

Back off me, be cool  
And learn to change your ways  
'Cause you're talking in your sleep  
And you're walking in a daze  
Don't push your luck  
I'm ready to attack  
'Cause when I'm trying to talk to you   
All you do is just talk back  
You stand so tall you don't frighten me at all  
Don't talk back, don't talk back  
Don't talk back just leave me alone

After Freddie was done, Brian’s face was flashing between ghostly white and crimson red with both rage and misery burning in his hazel eyes. John immediately avoided Brian’s gaze.

“What is this supposed to mean John? If you have a problem with me, you should speak.” Both hands curled up into fists, Brian looked like he is ready to blow up any second.

As if you will listen. John murmured under his breathe. “Don’t be so self-centered Brian. Not everything is about you. It’s just a song.”

“Fine!” Brian snapped. He went to grab a random guitar hanging on the wall. “What are the guitar lines? We might as well finish recording this today.”

“There are no guitar lines. It’s disco. Don’t need guitar.” John replied in his sassy voice.

That did it. Brian throw the guitar on the wooden floor and stumped out of the studio. The tense silence returned. Not before long, Roger muttered ‘fuck this’, threw his sticks back on the drums and escaped through the back door.

Freddie slowly walked to John and tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. “Deaky, I know he’s an ass. But that might have been too harsh darling.”

John shook his head. Both hands scratched his permed head in frustration. His actions may be exactly the opposite, but his heart still ached whenever he saw Brian hurt, even if he was one doing the hurting.

“I know that hurt Fred. Maybe that is exactly what I want to do. God he really is driving me crazy.” John turned to the older man, “I think I need to leave too. I couldn’t get anything done in this state anyway.”

The singer nodded in understanding and gave the younger man a hug.

John walked out of the studio, to his surprise, Brian was standing not far from the door and walked toward him.

“What do you want, Brian?” John sighed.

Brian’s hazel eyes shone with fury and hands were curled tightly into fists. John thought the guitarist would have yelled at him, punched him, or even slapped him. What he never expected though was that Brian clenched the back of his head and smashed their lips together.

John felt Brian’s teeth nibbing on his lips, tongue swiping the roof of his mouth vigorously. It was not a gentle or tender kiss by any means but there was no shortage of passion. Never breaking the lip lock, Brian started pushing John toward a door that John vaguely remembered was used to store old equipment.  

Once inside the musty storage room, Brian’s hand started to roam all over John’s body causing him to moan into the kiss. They had not been physically close for weeks and as much as John didn’t want to admit it, he missed this. It didn’t have to do with love because at that moment, John did not even like the man he was kissing. It was a primal desire. He felt all parts of his body waking up to Brian’s touches and the pent-up sexual tension for the last many weeks had an outlet for release.

A bit to Brian’s surprise, John’s hands reached down to undo the zip of Brian’s jeans and takes Brian’s cock into his hands. Brian’s eyes were darkened with desire and pushed John by the shoulders to his knees. John was a bit startled by the change in position but Brian weaved his fingers through John’s hair, almost fondly. As he looked up at Brian, he thought no matter how angry Brian got, he was still the caring and considerate lover he always knew.

The act of tenderness disappeared almost as soon as it began. Brian thrusted suddenly into John’s mouth and John gags, attempts to pull away on impulse were stopped by the guitarist’s hand holding the back of his head. John swallowed with some difficulty and took Brian’s whole length in his mouth, ignoring the water that were he was feeling in his eyes. Almost as revenge, John’s nails started digging into Brian’s bare hips.

As remembering the events in the studio immediately leading to this incidence of John on his knees in the dingy dusty storage room, he clenched John’s curls in his hands and pushed himself deep into John’s throat causing him to choke. John knelt there, having no control, with Brian setting the rhythm and moving his head for him.

With no warning, Brian pulled out of his mouth and John coughed uncontrollably. Brian pulled John up and growled in his ears, “I want to fuck you.”

John’s eyes widened. He saw in Brian’s stormy hazel eyes that there no room for negotiation. John nodded and muttered “okay”, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

Brian flipped John around, pushing his face against the wall. John felt his jeans being pulled down and Brian’s saliva coated fingers suddenly in his ass, stretching him. It had been a while and John felt himself almost jump when Brian’s fingers reached a bundle of nerves inside him, his fingers gripping the slippery wall.

John felt certain emptiness when Brian’s fingers left but immediately got alarmed as he sensed the head of Brian’s cock at the entrance. It had been weeks since he did this and he felt he was not prepared enough, especially with no lube. If Brian started now, it definitely would not be an enjoyable experience for him.

“Brian,” John tried to call out but soon found that he was losing his voice. He doubted the man behind him heard anything. He was right because the next thing he knew, Brian was forcing himself in. John bit the back of his arm to prevent himself from crying out in pain. He felt tears forming in his eyes.

Brian grabbed John’s hips and forced the smaller man’s body against him as he started to thrust in and out, setting the rhythm. He felt he had full control of the situation, including the body of the man in front of him. The recent battling of power between himself and John had been driving him crazy the past weeks and maybe this was his way of balancing out. John had hurt him. Though he never wanted to admit it, part of him was seeking revenge. He was releasing his frustration in each of the thrusts.

John’s mind wandered to the event that happened years ago that led to him and Brian together, when he was pushed against the dirty wall in the loo at a gay club in US when he was almost raped if it weren’t for his friends showing up just in time. John shuddered at that image. His legs were weak and John knew he would not be able to hold himself up if it wasn’t Brian supporting most of his weight. Despite the raging pain, his body still had the reaction to Brian’s touch and thrusts. John felt Brian’s hand started stroking his hard cock, following the rhythm of his thrusts. The rhythm picked up pace so did Brian’s grunts behind him. Not before long, John felt all the air was knocked out of his lungs and he let out his release. Brian followed, spilling scolding cum inside John’s body.

They stood there for a moment, with John leaning against the wall and Brian leaning against John. Then Brian pulled out causing John to wince. He cleaned John up with a handkerchief and pulled up John’s trousers before tidying himself. As John turned around, Brian’s heart filled with horror as he saw John’s tear-stricken face.

“Deaky,” Brian’s hand cupped John’s face with pad of his thumb rubbing his cheek with more tenderness he had shown in the past month. “What is the matter? Did I hurt you?”

John leaned into Brian’s touch, wishing he could just rest his head on the taller man’s shoulder just like he did before. But at this moment, he would rather die than cry or show any signs of weakness in front of Brian. He forcefully pushed Brian away and ran out of the door of the cramped storage room.

Brian leaned against the wall that was still stained with John’s cum. Shit, what have I done. He murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe you guys did not like the smuts. That definitely make my job easier. :P. Hope you enjoy and comments would be appreciated.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Space is an angsty period. Brian's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did a lot of writing this weekend, among other things. This subplot was not how I had planned it and kind of came out spur of moment. Sometimes fics do have a life of their own and it is exciting when that happens.

Brian cannot tell when or how did everything started to go so wrong. Maybe beginning with deciding to come to Munich to record this album. Brian never liked this city. The nightlife was too intriguing for the likes of Freddie and Roger. With all the drinks, the drugs, the sex, more time were spent partying than working on the new album. Even John was getting caught in the party scene, always hanging out with some American bird which Brian was positive the only purpose was to make him jealous.

He hated everything about this album. That was not exactly true, he did not hate La Palabras de Amor that he and Freddie wrote. He thought their collaboration with David Bowie in Under Pressure would be a hit. John did not write a lot of songs, but when he did, they would be top of the chart hits. Brian thought fondly.

He did hate everything about disco. Yet that was all Freddie and John wanted to play nowadays. With disco music being on the downhill since the last decade ended, he knew this album would not do well if they continued to keep recording songs like that. He tried to talk some sense to his bandmates, but all he got was being told he was an ass.

Twelve years together, a lot of marriages did not last as long as Queen had been a band together. Maybe it was time that the started to grow apart. Maybe they had used up all their talents. And maybe, Brian feared the most, they were getting tired of each other’s company. They had lost something along the way, probably somewhere between an album and a tour or another album and another tour. They lost the bond that made them family. They all changed, cut their hair and started to deviated from their heavy rock music that they played for more than a decade, the music that gave them fame and success and made them who they are. Sometimes standing in the middle of the studio, with his guitar just about as useless as a piece of furniture, Brian felt so alone.

Freddie changed, hair cut and mustache trimmed with a look that is identical to every gay man in Europe. He took an interest in the dance music that were played at every gay club and wanted to make those kinds of music. He was no longer performing to everyone at the back of the room but only to the ones that were like him. Roger was probably just as frustrated about this album as he was, Brian always believed. But Roger settled, mostly because he could numb himself with booze and other mind-altering substances.

And John. Brian’s heart ached at the thought of John. The same man that he loved for almost as long as he had known him. Gone were the love that shone in those green eyes when the younger man looked him. Gone were the lingering touches whenever they sat too close. The bassist had grown so much since he first joined the band, since they were first together. John had cut his long brown locks, permed his hair, changed from baggy jeans to tight trousers, and started wearing tops of matching color. All those made him look incredibly sexy. Brian thought he should be extremely proud of how much John had grown. And he was, until John started to argue with every single one of his suggestions when all he was trying to do was ensuring the success of the band.

Freddie and John both said he was self-centered and vain. That was not true or at least the sole cause for his anger and frustration. All he wanted was to be needed, to be able to contribute. How was that possible? What kind of disco music would need electric guitar? All they needed was bass. Standing beside John, Brian felt totally useless. Though he never wanted to admit, he did feel bitter. Looking at the songs Freddie wrote for this album, all he could contribute was to play the damn synthesizer and drum machine.

Hearing John’s new song Back Chat was the last straw. Brian immediately recognized it was about him. Part of him wanted to blow up in ferocity. How dare John wrote a song like that and even consider to record it on the album. Part of him was engulfed in unyielding depression. Was that how John felt about him now? The man who claimed to love him more than life. The man whom he just about determined to spend the rest of his life with. Brian felt John just reached into his chest, grabbed his heart and squeezed it until every last drop of blood was gone.

The old sayings were correct. There was a fine line between love and hate. And the ones you love are the ones that could really hurt you. Brian had not wanted to hurt someone like he wanted to hurt John for a long time, if he ever did. At that particular moment, fury and despair numbed his brain and blinded his sight. All he wanted was to inflict on John the pain he felt in his heart. And for some odd collision of energy particles in the cosmos that he could not explain, that ended up with him kissing John and fucking him in the dark dingy closet. In the equipment closet, with him thrusting in and out of the younger man’s body at the speed and rhythm he chose, Brian finally felt he had control. Weeks of frustration and tension had an outlet for release.

It was only after seeing John’s tear stained face, swollen eyes and lips that it suddenly dawned to Brian what he had done. With all the fury dissipated, Brian felt he was in free fall and just crushed to the ground. Brian may have a temper, but he was always a considerate lover, especially with John. Their lovemaking had been passionate, but always tender. And what happened in the closet was anything but that.

After John left, Brian slumped down on the ground. He buried his face in his hands as the sequence of events that just happened played in his mind. He forced his cock in John’s mouth when John was choking, gagging and gasping for air. He barely stretched John before just jamming in when the younger man clearly needed much more preparation, especially when there was no lubrication. He remembered the tension in John’s back, the lurching of John’s arms, and the heave in John’s breathe. Brian now couldn’t imagine how painful that must had been for John. To think that he was the cause of the pain, when all he wanted to do in life was to hold John in his arms and protect him. Brian sat in the closet for a long time, until everyone was long gone in the studio. He knew he had just messed up the best thing in his life.

The following days were agonizing to Brian. John avoided him the best he could. He wanted to talk to John, to apologize even, though he did not know where to start. But the younger man averted his gaze and would literally run away as soon as he was close. Everyday, John would be the first to leave after Brian had arrived. Brian’s heart broke the hoarseness in John’s voice making him barely able to speak and the way John grimaced whenever he tried to sit down.

The more Brian thought about the incident, the more he could not believe he did those things to the man he loved. It was as if someone else was in control of his body. He thought about the events in the past couple of weeks leading up and some reasons for why he did what he did. He began to laugh at his vanity and bitterness. Brian used to think he was pretty smart, or at least above average. Not anymore. He was the dumbest man in the world. And because of that stupidity, he was about to lose the most person in his life.

Both Freddie and Roger noticed the obvious change in the dynamics between the couple. Suddenly the four of them weren’t arguing half as much and whatever they disagreed upon were easily negotiated. The recording sessions went quieter and smoother. While the singer and drummer were happy about that, but they couldn’t help but a sense of awkwardness and impending doom.

A week after, Roger pulled Brian by the sleeves to the corner of the studio where he sat with his drum set.

“Brian, tell me, what is going on with you and Deaky?” Roger asked, quite plainly in one of his rare sober moments.

“What do you mean?” Brian shuffled his feet and looked down.

“Well, Deaky has been so quiet the past week. Maybe it’s because he lost his voice to a cold or something.” Brian’s jaws twinge at Roger’s mention of that. “I mean, I’m glad that we are arguing less, but it’s just weird that he would let go the things that would get him riled up last week. It seems like he has given up. He looks depressed.”

Brian bit his lower lip. He wanted to scream in despair but he could find his voice.

Roger cleared his throat and continued. “I never thought I would say this mate, but I almost wished that you two would continue fighting. Before I hated your fights because I would hate to see you two fell out or even break up because of this album. But now, you aren’t even talking to each other. At least when you fought, it showed that you cared.”  

John walked up to the drum set before Brian replied and murmured the only words to the guitarist for the whole week in his still raspy voice. “Here is your guitar solo.” He dropped a sheet of music on the drum in front of Brian and left.

Brian grabbed the music sheet. It was the guitar solo for the song Back Chat that he vaguely remembered asking for last week.

“See? That’s what I meant.” Roger raised his eyebrows. “Do you think he would have done that last week? When he was determined that guitar was not needed in disco?”

Brian squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the middle of his eyebrows. “I screwed up Roger. I screwed up bad.”

“What happened Brian?” With the look of pure misery on Brian’s face, Roger was becoming concerned. “What did you do?”

Brian took a deep breath, “the day I first heard Freddie and Deaky play Back Chat, I lost it. I don’t think I had ever been so angry. Later, I caught Deaky as he was leaving. We, we fucked in the closet.”

Roger let out a whistle, “make up sex. That’s hot.” But he then got more confused. “That’s not right. Then you guys should be like before, all gooey eyed and touchy.”

“I kind of forced myself on him.” Brian muttered quietly.

“You what?!” Roger yelled. He quickly scanned the empty recording studio to ensure that he and Brian were the only two people there and lowered his voice, “Brian, please tell me that’s not true. You are better than that.”

Guilt was clenching his heart and eating Brian alive. He lowered his head and averted his friend’s gaze.

“What were you thinking Brian? I know Deaky hadn’t been the easiest person to work with in the past few weeks, but you went too far.” Roger glared at him, though with more pity than anger.

“I wasn’t. It just happened, heat of the moment if you will.” Brian sighed. “And believe me, I would do just about anything to take it back.”

They sat there quietly. Roger lit a cigarate and Brian didn’t complain, as rare as that may be. “What am I going to do now Roger?” Brian asked softly.

“I don’t know.” Roger shook his head. “You can apologize and try to ask for forgiveness I guess, but it will be difficult, even with Deaky loving you as much as he did. This really sucks. You and Deaky are both integral part of this band. We can’t lose either of you. But if you can’t work this out, I’m afraid we will.”

Brian shuddered at that thought. “Don’t say that Roger.”

“Fred and I had that worry when you two first got together. That you two breaking up would mean breaking up of the band like a cheesy tele. But you two seemed to be so into each other we didn’t have the heart to talk to you about it. And with you and Deaky lasting as long as you did, I thought it would no longer be a concern. Until now.” Roger sighed. “You better figure it out Brian, or this just might be the last album for Queen.”

With that, Roger killed his cigarate in the ashtray and left Brian alone with his thoughts.

That evening back at the hotel, Brian knocked on John’s door compulsively just like every evening and yet again with no response. The next day, Brian came to the studio early, hoping to catch John alone knowing that both Freddie and Roger were not morning people. But until the evening set in, Roger long gone, and Freddie was packing up to leave, there was still no sign of John. Brian winced.

“Fred, do you know where Deaky is.” Brian asked the singer who was just about to walk out of the door.

Freddie frowned at the guitarist, “Deaky wasn’t feeling well, so he went back to London. I guess he didn’t tell you.”

“What?” Brian exclaimed. “Is he okay?”

“He didn’t look good for the past week, lost his voice and all. But I think he will be okay with some rest.” Freddie shrugged his shoulders.

Brian’s heart fell. “What about the album?” He murmured quietly.

“Deaky finished recording all his part already. He pulled all-nighters all last week doing it against my advice. Part of the reason why he’s feeling like shit.”

Freddie left. Brian slumped on the chair staring at his hands. Is this what we have become Deaky? I have to find out where you are from Freddie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all are enjoying the super bowl Sunday. I only watch the half time show. >_<. Hope you enjoy and comments will be appreciated.


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Space Era

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Past week had been so busy but I am back with an update. Brian and John do work out their problems.

The next two weeks everyone just had one goal, to finish this damn album as soon as possible. They worked almost nonstop, day and night. Brian, Freddie, and Roger wouldn’t call that a pleasant time, but at least they were very efficient. Brian called the phone number for the house that he shared with John in southwest of London constantly, never having a single response. Not that he expected to but that didn’t deter him from trying. All he wanted was to talk to John before they were done for good.

On the day that they wrapped up the album and flew back to London, the management, being as considerate as they were, arranged them to have a press conference close to Heathrow. Freddie and Roger hid behind their shades and Brian hid behind his curls, no one was in any mood to talk. That didn’t stop the reporters from bombarding them with questions.

“Freddie, as the leader of Queen, do you feel that you are responsible for the success of the band.”

“I’m not the leader of Queen, just the lead singer. All four of us are equally responsible for the success of Queen.” Freddie replied firmly.

“How come there are only three of you here today?”

“John is not feeling well.” Roger chimed in.

“Freddie, why did you cut your hair and grew a moustache? Was it to hide your teeth or to announce your sexuality?”

“Why would I want to hide my teeth? I live in Britain, I don’t want to stand out.”

“Your look is the clone look every gay man in Europe wears. Did you want to comment about that?”

“Can’t help if people want to copy me, my dear.”

“Freddie, there are pictures of you on the tabloids, looking drunk and high, partying with men. What do you say about that?”

“I like to throw parties that you are not invited to.”

“Freddie, there are rumors you are living with a man in your mansion. Is that true?”

“There are many men living in my house. My personal assistant, my butler, my chauffeur, and my gardener.”

Brian shot an annoyed look at their manager, Jim Beach. Is this how the press conferences are from now on?

“Brian,” a high-pitched voice caused Brian to turn and focused on the blond woman. “Brian, there have been rumors that you and John are living together. Also there are a lot of pictures you and John out and about, quite close. Are you shagging? Are you two queers as well?”

The room was suddenly quiet and all the attention was turned to the guitarist. Brian’s face turned into a deep purple. He was furious. Living under the spot light, he knew those questions would come up eventually, especially after he and John started living together. But this was more than disrespectful.

“That’s an asshole question.” Brian replied in a harsh tone, “we are here as a courtesy to talk about the music and only about the music. The answers to the questions you all have asked are none of your business. So if none of you have questions about the new album, then we have better things to do with our time. So good day.” With that, Brian stood up and left, with Freddie and Roger on his heels.

When they were inside the car, Brian apologized to their manager. “I’m sorry Miami. That was very un-classy. But they are scoundrels.”

“That’s the British press Brian. It’s not like it’s your first encounter with them. It won’t be your last. Those questions are not going to stop.” Jim replied as a matter of fact.

“I know.” Brian murmured.

Jim put an arm around Brian’s shoulder, “Brian, I probably shouldn’t tell you this. But you have been even more depressing than your usual self, which I did not think it was possible. John asked me for some time off. He went to his parent’s place in Leicester.”

Brian squeezed his eyes shot and rubbed his temples. “Thanks Miami.” He sighed.

When Brian arrived home, he found it slightly comforting to see that it was the same as they left it. He checked the bedroom, only a couple of John’s cloths were gone.  Thank God. At least that means he is planning on coming back. Brian let out a sigh of relief. He is still at loss as to how to convince the bassist to come back home.

************************************************

“Veronica came by a couple of weeks ago. Such as sweet girl. I still don’t know why you didn’t get her to marry you. Her son is three already. This could be your son.”

John rolled his eyes at his mother’s chattering. “No Mom. If I married her, our son would be much older.”

“Fine. You are not getting any younger John. I am still waiting for you to bring home a nice girl.”

John sighed. “I’m going out for a walk, Mom.” He grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

Leicester had been the same quiet town. The first two days that John came back, he felt relaxed. Ate some of his mother’s home-made comfort food, saw some old school mates, who were all with families. Starting the third day, John began to wonder what made him to decide to come home since his mother started to annoy him with no ends about when are you bringing back a nice girl.

The cool spring air was helping to clear his head. John knew very well why he chose to come home. He had to get out of the studio in Munich, get out of the house he shared with Brian, and get out of the craziness of London. His heart bled so much after what Brian did to him in the equipment closet that there shouldn’t be any blood left at all. All his energy had been drained. His felt like crying but his eyes were dry with tears. He wanted to forget about the whole thing but the hoarseness in his voice and pain whenever he sat down were constant reminders.

He couldn’t bare looking at Brian. He wanted to escape right there and then. But being the responsible bassit, John felt he had to finish his part of the work for the album they promised to deliver. He worked, day and night, to finish the recording. He tried his hardest under the situation, but it was definitely not his best quality of work. After he was done, he wrote the guitar solo for Back Chat. If Brian wanted that solo bad enough to hurt him like that, then he can have it.

After John came back to London, seeing the house he shared with Brian just made his heart ache more. He briefly considered to stay at the flat he kept on the west side of London, but he did not want to be alone. So he decided to come home.

As John got his voice back and the other parts of his body doesn’t hurt anymore, the last couple of quiet weeks in Leicester did give John a chance to reflect. The whole time in Munich was a nightmare from the start to finish and so was this album. John had no doubt that Hot Space would perform poorly. Looking back at the things that happened in the recording studio, John shook his head at how difficult and inconsiderate he was being for the past few months. Royally a pain in the ass, John thought.

This had also been the longest he was separated from Brian since they got together almost a decade ago. Being without Brian made John realize that it was equally painful to leave him as to be with him. He couldn’t win. He could never get Brian out of his head. His mind kept going back to the blissfully happy times.

John took out a cigarate and started puffing. He really did hate himself for being so weak sometimes. He vaguely remembered years ago it was on one of the streets close to Leicester that he got a chance to see the future universes. He saw that he was with Brian in the years to come no matter universe he ended up in. John sighed. Those were so long ago that they seemed like a dream. Actually, John was pretty sure they were dreams. When he fell in love with Brian at tender age of 23, all John knew was that he would regret to no end if he never acted on his feelings. Back then, he never thought this relationship would last as long as it did.

John knew this was serious when Brian had the episode of hepatitis. He suddenly didn’t know what he would have done if the guitarist could not made it. Life and death situations did put things into perspective.

What about now? Were they falling out of love with each other? John hoped not. Deep down he still loved Brian, but some things did need to change.

John found himself walking back home. As he approached his childhood house, the sight of the man with unruly curls coming from the other side of the street startled him.

“Hi Deaky.” Brian greeted him softly. Brown curls messy and dark circles under his eyes, Brian looked disheveled and frankly miserable.

“Brian, how did you get here?” John was taken aback, “I don’t think you have been here before.”

“No, but I can ask.” Brian smirked a bit, “Veronica told me.”

“Damn Ronnie.” John muttered.

Brian drank in the sight of the bassist. John looked good. He was wearing tight blue jeans and brown leather jacket that was unzipped. His permed curls cut short and face clean shaven making him looking no older than twenty five. The gentle March wind swept the collar of his jacket causing it to hug around his neck giving him more sense of serenity. Just looking at John reminded Brian again how much he screwed up.

“What do you want Brian?” John frowned as Brian was obviously deep in his thought. He was not in a mood for another fight.

“Can we go somewhere to talk?” Brian asked faintly.

John nodded and led them to a quiet coffee shop down the street. Back in London, it was easy for John to go unnoticed but much harder for Brian, with his signature hair style. But in the peaceful streets of Leicester, they were both safe.

They sat down at a corner table and ordered their drinks. The silence was tense for both of them, knowing the rather awkward conversation that would likely follow. John sighed at how his once easy relationship with Brian could have deteriorated to this. Even before they were lovers, they were friends who enjoyed each other’s company.

“I’m sorry Deaky.” Brian started cautiously, eyeing the younger man for any reactions. “I can’t even start to apologize for everything in Munich. I’m sorry for being such an ass in the studio. I’m sorry for being disrespectful to your opinions.”

“It’s not all your fault. “John replied softly, “I was equally as guilty being an ass, and extremely inconsiderate.”

“And what happened in the equipment closet.” Brian tried to continue but was interrupted by the waitress bringing their tea. However, he did not miss how John cringed at the mention of the incident. “Deaky, I can’t even start to explain how sorry I am. I was mad with rage. I was not myself. I hurt you in a way that was unforgivable but I am still begging for you to give me another chance.”

“Another chance of what Brian?” John was not trying to be sarcastic. He actually sounded sad and defeated.

“To come home?” Brian asked hopefully.

John shook his head which made Brian’s heart sank. “Why did you do it Brian? Maybe I should have talked to you before I proposed to include that song in the album. But the state we were at, it wouldn’t have gone well either way.”

“I know.” Brian nodded. “We were constantly fighting and it got uglier and uglier. We couldn’t stand to be in the same room anymore. A lot of things you said were hurtful but at the same time I really missed you Deaky. I missed having to spend time with, to bounce ideas off, to hold deep in the night. And hearing that song, I just lost it. At that moment, I really wanted to hurt you like you hurt me. But believe me Deaky, I would do anything to take it back.”

John looked at Brian’s sincere hazel eyes across the table full of despair. His heart still ached at seeing Brian in such an anguished state. “It’s part my fault too.” John said gloomily. “If you really hate that song, we don’t have to include in the album.”

“No.” Brian replied quickly. “It’s a good song. I just wished it wasn’t so obvious it was about me. I recorded the guitar solo as well. I can play you the demo later, if you want.”

John gave him a coy smile, like the one he wore a lot more often in his younger days. He wondered when did they lost the ability to chat easily like this. He took a deep breath. “But Brian, what is happening to us? We never fought like this. Not just you and me, but with Freddie and Roger too.”

“We just too tired.” Brian replied in resolution. “We have been going at this almost nonstop for more than a decade. I talked with Fred and Roger too, I think we need to slow down, take a little break for ourselves.”

John nodded. “You are probably right. What about us then? Do we need a break?”

“No!” Brian’s eyes shot up in panic. “No, Deaky. I still love you with all my heart. I still wish to share my life with you, if you will have me.” Brian reached across the table to grab John’s hand, heart soaring when the younger man did not pull away.

When John averted Brian’s desperate gaze and didn’t really respond, Brian sighed in defeat. “But I understand if you need space from me Deaky.” He was about to let go of John’s hand, but the younger man’s fingers hold onto his.

“I love you too Brian.” John said sadly. “I always have. But I never want to be treated like that again. I felt used, like I was some sort of garbage or fuck toy for you to release your anger and frustration.” John’s voice cracked as he cursed himself to be on the brink of tears again.

Chest constricting to the point of pain, Brian wanted nothing more than to grab the bassist into his arms and shower gentle kisses on his face but they were not alone in the coffee shop. “It was the heat of the moment and I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I couldn’t explain how sorry I am Deaky. You are just about the best thing that ever happened to me. I..”

“We could be here apologizing for hours but I think you made your point.” John interrupted Brian in a rather sassy voice that made him chuckle.

“So you will come home? Back to London?” Brian asked hopefully, his thumb rubbing circles on the palm of John’s hand.

“Well, as my mother is driving me crazy, I guess I don’t have another choice.” John stuck out his tongue in disgust. “Just wait here a bit and I will go back to tidy up my stuff. Unless you want to say hi to my mother and explain to her why I haven’t been bringing home ‘nice girls’ that she has asked.”

“Well I can pretend to be a girl. But I can’t pretend to be the ‘nice girl’ that would make your mother happy.” Brian contemplated the idea for a moment. “But I am ready whenever you are, Deaky, to meet your parents I mean.”

John patted Brian’s back of hand. “Enough drama for today. Save more for next time. By the way, I watched your press conference on tele by the way. Very classy. We do have to figure out a plan for those questions next time.”

Brian gave John’s hand a squeeze. “Same thing Deaky. I’m ready when you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, that's my take on the Hot Space Era in this alternate universe. Next chapter will move to mid-80s, AIDs crisis and Live Aid concert, as well as some family drama. Hope you enjoy and comments would be appreciated. :D.


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Live AID era

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to increase the rating yet again. Really been enjoying writing smut recently. Fluff around the Live AID time.

1985

“Uncle John, please come visit more often. I miss you.”

“Of course, Robbie. As long as you are being a good boy for Mom.” John picked up Veronica’s 6-year-old son and swirled him around before sending him off to swimming class.

After shutting the front door, Veronica turned to the bassist, “how have you been nowadays John? I hope you are less busy.”

John replied with a dry laugh. “Definitely less busy.” That was an understatement. He never thought he would ever complain about this, but he felt he had too much time on his hands. After constant fighting and frankly being tired of seeing each other day in and day out, they decided to take a break unofficially. A long-needed break was a good idea until they all learnt that the couldn’t deal with having nothing to do. They did not have the same energy and enthusiasm as they did in the early days. Even with performance at the Live Aid concert, supposedly the biggest concert with the largest broadcasting audience in history, in just a month, they still could not get their asses together to practice.

It was not surprise that the previous two albums did rather poorly both on the charts and in sales. Everyone knew they were subpar in terms of creativity and recording quality. Discouraged by the disappointing performance of the albums, Freddie, Brian and Roger all pursued solo projects. John didn’t. He couldn’t. He was depressed from all these free times he had because it was a constant reminder that he couldn’t sing.

John also felt he and Brian had been growing apart again recently. Brian was getting less talkative and always on edge, as if he was ready to snap any minute. He was also more depressed than his usual baseline, if that was at all possible.

TV was still on in the living room. “…Since scientists isolated the virus in 1983, there has been minimal progress made in finding treatment. Every day the disease continues to gloom the Bay Area and the world. Every day, another gay man in San Francisco is told the horrible news. You have AIDS. There is no cure. Please advise everyone you had sexual contact with to get tested…”

John reached for the remote and shut off TV. Who was he kidding. John knew why Brian had been on edge. He was anxious too.

“John?” Veronica’s concerned voice brought John out of his own thoughts.

“What did you say, Ronnie?” John looked at her apologetically.

Veronica looked at the now blank TV screen and sighed, “I know you and Brian had been together a long time, but have you guys thought of getting tested? Just to be sure.”

John inhaled deeply and shook his head. He had definitely thought about it but did not have the heart to bring it to Brian. They had never explicitly talked about it, but John trusted Brian one hundred percent. However, they still had fun those rare occasions they went to clubs. During the many months they spent in Munich, enjoying the night life with Freddie, Roger, and the rest of the crew, everything was under a haze of drugs and booze. John could not remember what happened most of those nights. Besides, the news articles report the incubation period for the virus could be as long as ten years. It could have been even before he and Brian got together.

“John? Earth to John.” Veronica shook his shoulder.

 “I’m sorry Ronnie. I’m not myself today.” John gave her a sheepish smile.

“Are you okay?” Veronica was worried.

“Yeah. Don’t worry Ronnie. I’m just a bit tired. I will just go home and rest a bit. See you and Robbie next time. Yeah?” John gave her a quick hug and waved goodbye, walked out with Veronica’s troubled gaze behind his back.

When John got home, he was surprised to see Freddie there, sitting by the kitchen table with Brian.

“Freddie, fancy seeing you here.” John walked over and put his arms around the older man’s neck from behind.

Freddie patted John’s arms and said, “Deaky, have a seat.”

Freddie’s rather grave tone which was unusual for him alerted John. “What’s up Fred?” He asked as he sat down, subconsciously grabbing for Brian’s hand.

“I wanted to come and talk to you guys.” Freddie took a deep breath, “Jim and I got tested, and today we got our results back.”

John held his breathe and felt like his heart stopped.

“The results are negative. We are safe.” Freddie smiled.

John and Brian both let out a deep sigh, “what the hell Fred, such a drama queen! You scared us to death.” Brian scolded.

“Well, it is a serious matter.” Freddie said in as a matter of fact manner, “now I know you two are the perfect gay couple.  Even though it’s very low risk, but I think it’s a good idea for you to get tested as well. Just to get a peace of mind. I already told Roger. I’m taking him to the clinic tomorrow. Do you two want to come along?”

After walking Freddie out the door, John returned to the kitchen finding Brian exactly as he left him, sitting there with a blank look in his eyes. John sat across from him.

“Penny for your thought?” John tried to get the older man’s attention.

Brian reached across the table and took John’s hands in his. “Deaky, we never talked about this and we have been together for so long that I thought we didn’t need to. That we would never hurt each other that way. Now I am going to tell you, for as much as I can remember, I was never with anyone else, men or women, without you also in presence, since we got together in 1974.”

John squeezed Brian’s hands and smiled. He never had any doubt about Brian’s loyalty because it’s Brian. But hearing those words did make him feel content. “Brian, I could say the same thing. Though my memory may not be as good as yours. I have quite a bit of memory gaps for the time we were in Munich.” John chuckled.

Brian playfully slapped his hand, “Roger and Fred are bad influences. Told you not to hang out with them so much.”

“Hey, you were the one who introduced me to them if I recall correctly.” John pouted, remember clearly the day he met Brian for the first time through a mutual friend who heard Brian’s band was looking for a bass player.

“That was a mistake on my part. I should have just hidden you from them and kept you for myself.” Brian grinned at him giddily.

“So what do you think of Freddie’s suggestion Brian? Should we follow suit? Is that what’s been bothering you lately?” John asked carefully.

“Partly.” Brian sighed. “The news is everywhere all the time it’s hard to ignore. I am mainly worried about Freddie and Roger. But I do not see the point of getting tested and knowing the result if nothing could be done about it anyhow.”

“It would help us plan better.” John shrugged his shoulder.

“Plan our death?”

“God you are always so morbid Brian.” John scowled. “But essentially yes, put our life affairs in order when we know we don’t have much longer to live. And,” he stole a glance at Brian’s hazel eyes, “be careful not to infect the ones we love.”

“Believe me Deaky, whatever the result, it’s not going to change how I feel about you one bit. And not going to change what I like to do with you.” Brian smirked.

It was a ridiculous but attractive thing to say and it did its job. John blushed from his forehead to the bottom of his neck covered by the collars of his shirt and Brian beamed at that.

“We could be more careful.” John murmured. “Let’s do it then, go with them tomorrow to get the test done. Like Fred said, a peace of mind and maybe it would stop bothering us so much.”

“If that’s what you want.” Brian nodded.

Brian was quiet again with a sullen look in his hazel eyes. John was concerned. There was something else bothering his lover and he was determined to find out.

“What else is on your mind Brian?” John asked in a troubled voice. “You have just depressed, more than usual. Though I did not think that was possible.”

When Brian didn’t really respond and just sat there, John grew more apprehensive. “Come on, you can tell me anything.”

“I told my parents about us a couple of days ago.” Brian blurted out.

“What?!” John almost jumped from his seat. “Why so sudden? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was kind of spur of the moment. I’m 38 years old Deaky. I can’t hide it much longer. It also doesn’t help that I’m their only child. If I don’t bring back some woman soon, they will force me to marry someone, anyone. Plus, the tabloids write stories about us all the time.” Brian replied drily.

John nodded, “then how did it go?” His voice was hesitant.

“Just peachy. I won’t be seeing them anytime soon because they pretty much disowned me. It was Dad’s 60th old birthday too so very bad timing. I guess he didn’t expect that as a birthday present.” Brian let out a bitter laugh.

John felt a pang in his heart. He was never very close to his father but he knew how close Brian and his father were. After all, his Dad taught him music and helped him to build his first guitar ‘The Red Special’ which Brian still plays on today. He got up to sit beside Brian and pulled him into his arms. Brian leaned into the hug and rested his curly head on John’s bony shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Brian.” John carded his calloused fingers through Brian’s dark curls.

“Hmm. It’s my fault really. I should have planned it better.” Brian sighed, his soft breath tickled the sensitive spot on John’s neck sending shivers down his spine. “Deaky, you are my only family now.”

John kissed the top of Brian’s head and rubbed gentle circles on his back, “we will always be family Brian. Always have, always will.”

They sat there in the kitchen quietly, holding onto each other as if for their dear life, until daylight gave into dusk. He wanted to say some comforting words like they will eventually come around but he did not even them believe himself. He thought about what would happen when he eventually tells his parents the truth, which would be inevitable in the near future.  John shook his head. He wished there would be another way.

Maybe it was because they decided to get the test that may change their fate. Maybe it was because they realized they were alone against the world. There was something desperate about their lovemaking that night. Brian worshipped every inch of John’s body lingering on the sensitive spots, his collarbone, nipples, lower belly, inside of his thighs until he was a whimpering mess. Just as John was about to flip to his stomach when Brian was getting the lube to stretch him.

“No Deaky, I want to see you. You don’t know how beautiful you are when you come.” Brian smiled at him sweetly.

John’s breath hitched. He could have just come right then and there but bit his lips to hold back.

Brian stretched John so slow that it was agonizing. His fingers moved seemingly randomly inside but knuckles always found that bundle of nerve that made John’s legs tremble. John closed his eyes and let out a throaty sound as Brian fucked him with his fingers.

John’s eyes snapped open as he felt the emptiness as Brian withdrew his fingers. But soon he felt the head of the older man’s cock at the entrance.

“Ready?” Brian lifted John’s legs onto his shoulders.

John nodded. Brian pushed in gradually, giving the younger man a chance to adjust to his girth while at the same time sucking on John’s lips.

“Brian…” John whimpered between their sloppy kisses. Nothing could ever top the feeling of Brian inside of him, filling him.

Brian started thrusting, much slower and deliberate than he usually did, as if he was savoring every moment. His hands found John’s clenching tightly to the bedsheets and interlocked their fingers together. John saw a reflection of himself in Brian’s hazel eyes, eyes that held so much love as if he was the most precious thing in the world.

Brian started kissing John again, tenderly and equally as deliberate as his thrusts. John closed his eyes, enjoying every touch, every taste, every thrust, and every one of Brian’s hot breath on his face. He was so deliriously happy that John was sure that his heart would beat out of his chest. They broke their lip lock when they were both gasping for breath. Brian leaned down so their foreheads were glued together by the sweat. He chanted John’s name as if it was a prayer.

That was it for John. His dick grinding between their torsos and Brian still thrusting in and out of him at the same leisure pace. The emotional turmoil during the day did make him a bit sentimental on top of the extra sweet lovemaking. As his head rolled back in ecstasy, tears of joy also rolled down his cheeks.

Brian felt himself close as John’s ring of muscles started closing in on him. He fucked the younger man through his orgasm until he was not able to hold it any longer.

 They lay there, plastered against each other in the mix of cum and sweat. John was still seeing stars until he heard Brian’s concerned voice calling his name.

“Deaky, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you.” Brian was looking at him with so much care and concern, thumb wiping off the tear and sweat on his face.

“No,” John shook his head. He grinned at Brian, totally satiated. “It was amazing. I love you so much Brian.”

Brian held the younger man close to him and whispered in his ear, “I love you too, forever and always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember reading an article about how close Brian and his father was, thought would include that in the story. Hope you enjoy and comments are always appreciated. :D.


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little snippet between John and Freddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Events leading up to and surrounding the Live Aid is more based on the movie, speaking of which I got my DVD today. :D.

They were sitting in the same clinic they were at three days ago, only this time it was to get the results.

“Deaky?” Brian’s clammy hand grabbed John’s equally as sweaty one.

“Yeah?” John knew he was hyperventilating but still find it hard to control himself. After Roger was deemed safe, he and Freddie almost started celebrating already since they could not imagine their other two responsible bandmates could have anything but a negative result.

Brian squeezed John’s hand and looked at his lover, “Deaky, I just wanted you to know that no matter what the result comes out to be, my feelings toward you will not change. I have loved you since the day we met and I will continue to love you until the day I die.”

If John was not so nervous, he was sure he would be in tears. He leaned onto Brian’s shoulder and choked on his words, “I love you too Brian. We will both be fine.”

“Mr. May, Mr. Deacon. Please come in.” The doctor beaconed them to come into the exam room. “I want you to know that both your results are negative. Congratulations.”

Brian hugged John so hard that he was sure some ribs were cracked.

Outside the clinic in the parking lot, Freddie and Roger grabbed their two other bandmates in a messy group hug.

“Let’s go get wasted and celebrate.” Roger yelled.

Brian shook his head, “no, no. Before that, we have work to do.”

“What? You can’t be fuckin serious.” Roger pouted.

“Miami has been calling me insistently. Live Aid is in exactly 31 days and it is the largest world audience in history.” Brian said matter-of-factly. “We haven’t played together for a while so we really have to start practicing. Since we finally have all our asses together today. We might as well start now.”

“You are always such a fun spoiler Brian.” Roger made a disgusted face.

Freddie patted Roger on the shoulder, “Brian’s right, Roger, as always. I know it’s fuckin annoying. But we do need to start practicing.”

“Alright kids, let’s meet with Miami first.” Brian waved at Freddie and Roger while grabbing John into the car.

“So, it’s nice to see four of you together again, and not at each other’s throats.” Jim Beach sat behind his desk, as put together and polished in suit and briefcase as he always was, examining the four bandmates. Through out the years, he had been less of their manager and more of their friend. “If anyone wants any tea, coffee, sharp object, bladed weapon, let me know.”

“I could use some tea.” John shrugged his shoulder. He could always use some tea.

Once everyone got some tea, Jim started again. “We all know why we are here. We need a plan for Live Aid concert in Wembley. Basically, everyone who is anyone is going to be there. It’s for a good cause. So you cannot afford to suck. Considering you haven’t played together for a while, I suggest you start now.”

“What kind of format is it?” Freddie asked.

“Bob Geldof wanted to keep it simple, twenty minutes, old songs.”

“We are going to be very rusty.” Brian sighed. “People are going to be like who are these four dinosaurs, where is Madonna? Where is Michael?”

“You are the eternal pessimist Brian. They will love us.” Freddie said with great air of confidence that’s always around him.

“This will be different Fred. The tickets were all sold out. We were added late. They are not the Queen fans that we were used to. Of course, if there are any of those left.” Brian replied sarcastically.

“Doesn’t fuckin matter darling. We will go up there and win them like we always have.” Freddie gave him a toothy smile.

“Freddie’s right. We will win them.” Roger put a fist in the air.

John lean back by the couch and let out a reserved smile. He felt he was back in the early days of the band when Brian always saw the glass half empty, Freddie and Roger would see it half full. He would sit in the corner, quietly, with a bashful smile like he has on his face now.

They all understood the importance of this performance to them, to the future success of Queen. John wouldn’t call this a reunion because they never really broke up. Rather they just slowed down. They had been on rather the down slide since the turn of the decade and slowing down definitely did not help them. Brian had a point. John did wonder how many fans they still had when the previous studio albums had performed so poorly.

Blurry images of the Live Aid concert started to appear in John’s mind, seemingly from another world, another life. Tens of thousands of people yelling back from the Wembley stadium. People dancing to every beat of Roger’s drums, following every hand gesture from Freddie. John couldn’t help but grin, no matter what world, the concert was a success that put them back on the map.

“Great spirit lads.” Miami nodded approvingly. “But you do need to hit the studio.”

Brian was right though. They were rusty. Everyone still played brilliantly individually, but together as a group they needed way more rehearsing. They did start fighting again almost as soon as they started playing. Who’s fast, who’s slow, who’s missed a beat, who is off key. But they were the playful banters from the earlier seventies than the cut throats that happened couple of years ago. They also need to work on a song list for the performance. And just as John expected, that would invite endless arguments.

They practiced for hours, more than anyone expected until Freddie’s vocal cords could not take it anymore and Roger had broken another 2 sets of drum sticks. They decided to call it a day. Brian and Roger went to find the technicians to better tune their instruments. John let of a satisfied sigh as he put away his bass. He saw Freddie walking toward him. To his surprised, the singer grabbed him in a friendly hug.

John returned the hug, a bit confused. “What’s that for, Fred?”

“Just glad to see you, darling.” Freddie messed with John’s permed hair.

“Oi, don’t mess with my hair.” John slapped Freddie’s hand away. “Besides, you were just at our house like 3 days ago.”

“But we didn’t really get a chance to talk. I had to go to convince Roger get tested.” Freddie pointed out. “It’s just it’s so nice to get back together with all of you again.”

John heard a hint of romanticism in Freddie’s voice. Freddie had always been affectionate and caring, but he didn’t show his inner sentiments too often.

Noticing the singer wanted to talk, John motioned for them to sit on the couch and asked gently. “What’s up Fred?”

Freddie sighed, “I will tell you a secret Deaky. I was terrified before I got the result of my test. I thought I may never have a chance to play with all of you without worrying whether this would be the last time.”

John was startled. With Brian sulking over the broken ties with his folks, John worrying about how to tell his mother the truth, and the emotions associated with getting the test, he didn’t have a chance to think about how petrified this whole experience must have been for Freddie. After all, the singer always like to take more risks and had the most chances out of all four of them to contract the deadly virus. Images Freddie, flesh eaten away by the disease, looking emaciated and sick flood John’s mind causing him to almost shout out in pain.

John squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head violently to force those images out of his brain. Thank god that is not going to happen in this universe.

He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. When John opened his eyes, he saw Freddie’s concerned face. “What’s wrong Deaky? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

John smiled and hugged Freddie again. “No Fred, I’m just happy that you are safe.”

Freddie gave him a toothy grin and patted his shoulder, “I’m happy for you too, for all of us, and for Jim. God, if I happen to give him the disease, I would have never forgiven myself.”

“Don’t say that Freddie.” John’s mind drifted back to the unpleasant world again.

“It’s true.” Freddie replied solemnly, which is rather uncharacteristic of his flamboyant character. “I am so very lucky to have him, and he probably saved my life. You did too Deaky.”

John raised an eyebrow and looked at the singer curiously.

“It took me a while to figure out why I still fancied blokes when there is a girl as beautiful and sweet as Mary waiting for me at home. When I finally figured out that I’m probably gay and broke the engagement with her, I didn’t think relationship between two men could ever work. You know me Deaky. I like taking risk; I like having fun. I just wanted to do everything with everyone.” Freddie chuckled.

“You are a legend Fred.” John hummed in his sassy voice.

“But everything was different when I met Jim. To think about it, he didn’t even recognize me the first time we met.” Freddie emphasized in a dramatic tone. “He just wanted to talk to me, just Freddie, not Freddie Mercury the lead singer of Queen. I had my doubts in the beginning, about having a real relationship with another man instead of just shagging. But then whenever I saw you and Brian, how in love and blissfully happy you both were, it gave me some confidence that maybe I can make it work too. I am very glad I did. He had been so good for me, like an anchor in my life. We still partied in Munich yeah, but it was not as sex infested as it was in the seventies. Well, for me at least.”

“Anyway.” Freddie continued. “If I didn’t have the courage to pursue a relationship with Jim, if I lived and partied the way I did in the 10 years ago, I would have for sure caught the death sentence. That’s why I said Jim saved my life. And since you and Brian gave me that courage. So you saved my life too Deaky.”

John realized under the overwhelming stage persona of Freddie Mercury, he was still just a rather self-conscious and lonely immigrant boy from Zanzibar. John remembered years ago when he first joined the band, how sweet and considerate Freddie was. How Freddie took care of him like a big brother, always reassured him how handsome and talented he was. It was nice to hear that he could do something for Freddie in return.

John squeezed the singer’s hand, “thank you Fred.”

“Well, I guess Brian as well. But I will never tell him that because his ego is big enough.” Freddie made a disgusted face.

“You have done so much for me Fred. It’s nice to hear I could help you in anyway.” John said sincerely.

“Oh my god Deaky, I am so proud of you.” Freddie exclaimed. “I remember when you first came to us, so young yet so talented. In the beginning, Brian and Roger never concerned with your talent, but they were worried how you would ever be able to play on stage when you can’t seem to talk without blushing. But you did Deaky.” Freddie put his arm around the younger man and chuckled, “and you have grown so much since those days, because so mature and even more sexy. Also the way you handle Brian. I never thought he could be so whipped.”

John turned into a deep crimson at that comment, just in the perfect moment that Brian is walking toward them.

“I hear my name, are you two talking about me?”

“Oh, sod off, not everything is about you Brian.” Freddie got up from the couch stuck out his tongue at the guitarist.

On the drive back home from the studio, John remained quiet with a thoughtful look while staring out the passenger window.

“What’s on your mind Deaky?” Brian asked.

John turned around and smiled softly at Brian, making his heart melt. “Brian, can we go to Leicester?”

“You mean today? Sure, just let me drop myself home and you can drive this car, or your car to Leicester.”

“No.” John grabbed Brian’s hand that’s on the gear lever, “I mean let’s go to Leicester, together.”

Brian was startled by John’s suggestion that he almost went over the lane. “Are you sure you are ready for that Deaky? Considering what happened with my family…”

John leaned over the rest is head on Brian’s shoulder, “I’m ready Brian. Whatever they decide, I will still have you, have Fred, have Roger. We will always be family.”

“We will.” Brian kissed the top of John’s head and took the turn leading to Leicester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is of course a beautiful fantasy and some form of reasoning for the butterfly effect in the world I had created in this story.


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Live AID

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day. The next couple of chapters are more reflections and dialogue and not very action heavy. Don't worry, there will be plenty of action and drama in the later chapters.

They have played in stadiums before, many many times. But always to Queen fans. They were added late to the concert line-up, out of loop and out of practice. Almost backed out if it wasn’t for Miami forcing them like a mother hen. John could hear the roaring crowd from their trailer, tens of thousands of people. And it didn’t help that the people walking around with lanyards and clipboards telling them how many million around the world are watching every hour.

John hadn’t had panic attack before performance since the early days of Queen when Freddie would dress him and put make up on his pale plain face to ensure he was stage ready. He was always nervous before coming on stage and require shoving certain mind-numbing substance down his throat. But he didn’t want to do that today. He wanted to savor every moment.

The trailer was too small for one grown man let alone four. Freddie sat on the chair by the door, eyes closed and humming softly. Roger slouched on the small couch hiding always hiding behind his shades. Brian folded his long arms and legs and managed to squeeze himself beside Roger. John sat by the little table, nursing his tea with shaky fingers. He could see Brian’s clogs, hear Freddie’s soft voice, smell Roger’s cologne.

Memories of these were good. Memories of them as friends and family. It didn’t matter to John that his blood family just disowned him when he revealed they truth hey didn’t like. He had his family right here. Four people that knew each other so well that words would be superfluous. Moments like these, serenity encompassing the trailer and all they needed was each other’s presence, make all the troubles worth it. Every fight, every argument, the financial problems that almost killed the band in its infancy, Brian’s illness, disgusting tabloid reports, and harsh critic reviews, all were worth it. Queen would never die no matter what the press wanted, as long as they were still together.

With a knock on the door Freddie’s eyes snapped open. “That’s our cue darlings, are you ready?”

Brian nodded and spread out his long arms, “as ready as we will ever be.”

They gathered in a messy group hug and exited the trailer door one by one. They never talked or planned, but it was their routine that Freddie was always the first one to run on stage.

Grabbing his bass, John felt Brian caught him in a bear hug from behind and felt his hot breath on his neck as he whispered, “I love you Deaky. Now let’s get up there and own the show.”

John squeezed his hand and smiled, “I love you too Brian. Let’s fuckin do this.”

“So long. Good bye! We love you!”

John let out a refreshing breath as Freddie bid farewell to the crying thrashing crowd. They owned them, every fuckin one of them at the very back of the stadium. It was nothing short of a miracle. Freddie was magnificent. They were all magnificent. It was better than they could ever hope for. It was better than anyone could ever hope for. John was usually back to his timid self as soon as the music dies but with the adrenaline rush left from moments ago, he decided to boldly walk in front and take his bow.

As Freddie skipped off the stage, they followed suit. He was so much more than just a front man for them. He was the heart beat of Queen, he was their idol. John briefly thought how they could have ever stood and watched Freddie getting sick and die. Unfortunately, as much as John wanted to shake them off, those images infested his brain more often ever since AIDS became an epidemic.

After everyone was tucked back inside their trailer, Freddie dropped onto his chair. John saw the toll the epic performance had on the singer. Freddie’s arms slumped by his side and was drenched in sweat.

“Are you okay Fred?” Standing behind Freddie with a protective stance, Brian asked with a concerned tone.

“Marvelous, darling. Just marvelous.” Freddie breathed. “Just give me a minute. Have to face it I am an old Queen, going to be fuckin forty next year.”

“Oh Freddie, you are a legend. You will rock them when you are eighty.” Roger let out a whistle while going through cupboards in the extremely tight space likely looking for booze.

“Do you want some tea Fred?” John asked. Still overwhelmed, he tried hard to stop his body from shaking.

“To the hell with tea, Deaks. Booze is what we need.” Roger finally found his hand on some vodka and now looking for shot glass.

Brian grabbed John’s hands and held them tightly in his own. The bassist’s finger tips were icy cold despite it being more than thirty degrees.

“You were brilliant today Deaky.” Brian grinned at him proudly and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Every note clear and crisp.”

John beamed at the guitarist, greens eyes shimmered with excitement.

Bob Geldof poked his head in the door. “Just want to say thank you lads. You were simply splendid. We reached one million pounds while you were on stage. Now everyone who had to follow you are shitting their pants.”

“Thanks Bob.” Brian replied.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Bob asked sincerely.

“Yes,” Roger yelled while Brian is rolling his eyes. “Where can I find some shot glass.”

“I will send them your way.”

After a roadie dutifully delivered four shot glass to their trailer, Roger poured each of them a shot and raised his glass. “To better days that are yet to come.”

“To four aging queens.” Freddie added.

John smiled as the vodka burned his throat. Very long ago, he had a chance to see how dreadful the world would be for a certain decision he made many years back. Not too long ago, he thought their best days were behind them forever. But those were all past now. The blond drummer was right. Better days had yet to come.

Laying on the lounge chair by the pool at Roger’s back yard, Brian stared at the cloudy sky. Give it to the British weather, it’s middle of summer and humid as hell, yet the sun is still no where to be found.

Brian never knew what to do at parties like this since his younger days. Roger always had a way with people, especially girls. Freddie’s magnetic personality always attracted everyone’s attention. He and John were the quieter, more awkward ones at these party scenes. But at least John enjoyed to dance.

Watching the moving bodies dancing to the beat of music, Brian sighed. Even more than a decade being a rock star had not taught the guitarist how to party. Now even John had abandoned him, finding Roger’s young son Felix a more fun company.

“Would you please at least pretend to enjoy this a bit Brian? After all, it’s Roger’s birthday.” Freddie walked toward him, sitting down on the lounge chair next to him.

“How do you know I am not enjoying this.” Brian took a swag of his beer bottle. “I can’t help it if I was born looking like this.”

Freddie shook his head and lit a cigarate. He was topless, brown eyes hid behind a pair of shades, leaned back onto the lounge chair bathing in the non-existent sun in all his hairy glory.

“You never change, Brian. Not even your hair.s” Freddie took a long drag on his smoke.

“Where’s Jim?” Brian asked.

“Chatting with Dominique probably. They are best mates now. She’s pregnant again, apparently.” Freddie replied in a drowsy voice.

From a distance, Brian could watch John playing with five-year-old Felix with such an energy and glow that is rather uncommon for the bassist. He felt a longing in his heart and turned to the singer. “Freddie, do you regret not having kids?”

“Hell no.” Freddie answered immediately, blowing out smoke. “I would much rather have more cats.”

Brian chuckled. Freddie and his insane love for cats. “How about Jim then?”

The singer shrugged his shoulders. “We never really talked about it openly. But I was pretty clear I would much rather have kittens than babies around. I think he’s okay with that.” He turned to look at Brian through his shades. “Why are you suddenly going on about kids? Thinking of getting dear Deaky pregnant?”

Brian almost choked on his beer. “Sod off.”

Freddie shrugged his shoulders. “What are you on about then?”

Brian sighed, “I never cared about children much. But Deaky is so good with kids and he always liked to play with kids. He’s always hanging out with Veronica’s sons. He would be a great father. Sometimes I am worried that he will regret not having any children in 5 or 10 years.”

“You two never talked about that darling?” Freddie asked affectionately.

Brian shook his head. “Never came up. I just thought it was something you naturally gave up when you chose, you know.”

“Not necessarily.” Freddie said thoughtfully. “I’m sure girls would line up to carry yours or John’s child. Also you can probably adopt.”

Brian briefly contemplated those ideas. Maybe his and John’s family would be more forgiving to them if they have a grandchild. But he quickly shook that hope off.

The birthday party was winding down as night fell. Most of the guests left and four bandmates and their manager found themselves seated in the lounge chairs by the pool in the evening breeze. British summer nights in late July could be equally as humid as the day.

“I hope you lads are all still semi-sober.” Jim Beach started, “I did hope to talk to you for a bit.”

“What’s up Miami?” Freddie asked.

“As you all know, your performance at Live Aid two weeks ago was very well received. You basically stole the show. Now the company is pushing me to ask you what your thoughts are about recording another album. I know you all wanted to take it slow and have a bit of break. Some of you worked on solo projects. So have you thought about what the plan will be for Queen moving forward.” Miami put if all up there frankly.

The four of them looked at one another. It was obvious the chemistry was still strong. Live Aid showed them that. Live Aid showed the world that. Queen would never die. However, going back to the recording studio meant more pressure, more anger, more insults, more arguments. No one wants to think about that. They all definitely had more talents to work with and they wanted their music to live on. But somethings had to change.

It was to everyone’s surprise, even to John himself, that the youngest and the most reserved member would make the proposal for change.

“I think we all would love to go back to the studio to record another album, schedule another tour. But somethings have to change. I suggest from now on, all our songs, no matter who wrote what line, the credit goes to Queen. All the royalty, split four ways, equally.” John proposed.

“That’s excellent idea Deaky.” Freddie exclaimed. “Darlings, we should have done this fifteen years ago. Maybe I will have less gray hair because of all the fighting.”

Roger snickered. “Freddie your hair is pitch black. Deaky on the other hand, shows some early signs of greyness.” John kicked Roger on the shin causing him to yelp. “Damn Deaky. But great idea though, I agree. It’s not like any of us need more money.”

“Brian?” John looked at the guitarist who was staring back at him with nothing but pride and love in his eyes.

“Of course, Deaky.” Brian squeezed John’s hand, “that sounds wonderful.”

“Alright, that settles that.” Miami clapped his hand. “I will talk to the higher ups in the company but I doubt there will be any issue with that. See you all in the studio.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happier version of the late 1980s. Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated. :D


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following 3 chapters will be tying a knot to the previous work: Decisions because it marks the end of the 1974 timeline in Decisions. After these three chapters, the plot will take a sharp turn. :P

1991

“It’s almost unimaginable for a band to be still so popular after 20 years. Not only you guys were the most influential British band in the 1980s, but getting inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on the 20th anniversary. Congratulations Freddie, it’s quite an achievement.”

“Who knows, after 20 years. Four old ladies are still rocking away.”

“How is the work dynamic of the band members after 20 years. Has it changed at all?”

“No, we still fight like kids. Especially me and Brian.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he only writes the songs I don’t like.”

John stretched on the couch at the commercial break. He was in the dressing room backstage of Madison Square Garden in New York City getting ready for their concert tonight as part of their 20th band anniversary tour. Twenty years, he can’t believe it. He was barely twenty years old when he first joined Queen.

Their magnificent performance at Live Aid concert and finding that all of them are safe from the deadly virus somehow injected a stream of fresh energy 4 of them. They went back to the recording studio with the same enthusiasm as during the 70s. Since they all had way more money than they ever needed, they decided to credit all the songs to Queen as a group no matter who wrote it and split the royalties equally four ways. That had definitely strengthened their bonds. The closeness and chemistry they shared in the studio and on stage brought John back to the happy earlier days. In the last 5 years, they released 3 new studio albums and toured to promote each one. At 40 years old, John never felt younger.

Freddie’s interview on TV continued after the commercial break.

“Have you thought what you would do if you didn’t play music Freddie?”

“I don’t know what I would do. I can’t do much else. I can’t cook. I would be a terrible house wife. If people stopped listening to our music and stopped buying our records. I guess I would have to be a strip artist. I am just a music prostitute, my dear.”

“Do you think you will go to heaven someday Freddie?”

“Oh no. Hell is much more interesting. Think about all the people you are going to meet. You will be there too you know.”

John can’t help but laugh at Freddie’s ridiculous comment causing the interviewer to be flustered searching for the next question.

“Eaoooh!”

“Eeaoooooh!”

Freddie swung the door open and came swirling in, followed by his two other bandmates, all dressed ready for the stage. “You are watching my interview again Deaky? I know you love me, but we have to be subtler for Brian’s sake, my dear.”

“Twat.” John slapped the singer’s arm.

“Are you ready to rock and roll birthday boy?” Roger held out his hand for a high five which John returned. “Show some disco moves up there.”

Before they headed up stage to a sold-out stadium of twenty thousand people, Brian wrapped his arm around John’s waist for a quick hug and whispered, “happy 40th birthday Deaky. I love you.”

“You told me that many times today already Brian. You are getting senile with old age or what?” John giggled into Brian’s chest.

“I can never say that enough.” Brian left a peck on John’s temple before running onto the stage.

“I love you too.” John shouted as he ran behind Brian.

**********************

 “Tonight, is a special night.” Freddie, who looked like a true king dressed in his majesty robe and crown, announced breathlessly into the microphone near the end of the concert. “Not only because we have a chance to perform in the Big Apple again after 5 years and spend the night with you beautiful people. It is also the fortieth birthday of our talented bass guitar player, song writer, and dearest friend Mr. John Richard Deacon.”

The crowd went wild with cheering. Freddie walked over grabbed John in a messy and sweaty hug before moving the crown from his head to John’s.

“The next song is going to be ‘You Are My Best Friend’. John wrote this song back in 1975. Now I am going to dedicate this song to the birthday boy, because it is true. You are my best friend Deaky. You are our best friend.”

Brian’s guitar chords kicked in with Freddie’s ballad. John’s mind went back to the day that he wrote this song all those years ago. The quiet farm house, the light autumn rain, the creak of the old piano, and Brian sitting by his side listening to him sing. John truly felt he was the luckiest man on Earth, on the top of the world.

*******************

“Man, I have to say touring is fun, America is exciting, and I love you all. But God I’m glad we are going home.” Roger yelled out as he slumped down on the sofa in the VIP lounge at Montreal Dorval airport, their last stop in the North American leg of the tour.

“Me too. I miss Daphne and Romeo, oh and my Jim too.” Freddie yawned.

Brian looked around for John. His lover was never a talkative person, but lately he finds the bassist to be even more diffident and retracted to himself, to a point that he was getting concerned. He found the younger man on the balcony outside the lounge, looking aimlessly at the sunset. Despite being still October, the Canadian city was already showing many hints of chilliness. John was standing there with nothing but a t-shirt. Brian could see him shivering from the inside.

Brian sighed. He grabbed the jean jacket that Roger used to cover himself while dozing off on the sofa and went to the balcony to drape it on John’s shoulder. The bassist smiled at him softly. The last rays of golden sunlight shimmered in his green eyes that made the guitarist’s heart just melt a little bit. Although being the youngest of them, John is the first to show signs on greyness in his previously light brown hair.

Brian leaned on the railing beside the younger man facing the westward sky now painted with crimson and purple. The air was chilly and crisp but Brian enjoyed the warmth where his arm leaned against John’s. Unlike their bandmates, Brian was not a physically affectionate man and neither was John, especially not in public. But Brian always found a certain calmness whenever he and John were in physical contact with each other.

“Blimney, it’s cold here.” Brian’s teeth chattered as a draft of cold breeze messed his curls.

John snuggled closer to him and chuckled, “it’s Canada. What do you expect, must be even colder than England. It’s a beautiful place though.”

“Yes, it is.” Brian nodded. “Can’t believe the last time we were here was almost exactly ten years ago.”

“The Game tour. One of our best live performances was here in ‘81 I would say.” John reminisced. “Do you remember how Saul Swimmer asked us to wear the same wardrobe for both nights we performed here. Freddie was so mad that we decided to constantly change cloth throughout the two nights just to annoy them?”

“Of course,” Brian laughed, “leave it to Freddie.” He looked over the bassist who still has the distant look in his eyes that he had been wearing for the past couple of weeks. Brian nudged John’s elbow, “what’s been occupying your mind lately Deaky?”

John shook his head lightly, “nothing important, just pondering over the past. That’s all.”

“Come on Deaky. I thought we were long past the stage of not trusting each other with secrets.”

John looked at Brian who had nothing but love and concern in his hazel eyes. Seventeen years, he had been keeping this secret for too long, exactly just as long as he and Brian had been together. For the last couple of years, instead of the images being fainter with the passage of time, they had actually become clearer and harder to erase from his brain. He had been dying to talk to someone because John felt himself going slightly mad with the constant images in his head. He even briefly considered therapy, but was always worried no one would believe a crazy story like that. Then again, John supposed, Brian is a frantic about space, multiple universes, and time travel. If anyone were to believe him, it would be Brian.

“It’s a long story Brian,” John sighed, “seventeen years.”

“Seventeen years?!” Brian raised his eyebrows, “you have been hiding a secret from me, from all of us for seventeen years? Have you been hiding a wife? Kids?”

“Twat.” John slapped Brian’s arm. “But in a way, it’s even more bizarre than that. You will think I’m out of my mind.”

“Now you will have to tell me Deaky. I’m even more intrigued.”

“It will take a while.”

“We do have a seven-hour flight.”


	17. Chapter 16

They settled in the first-class cabin of the trans-Atlantic flight, after Roger claimed back his jean jacket from John and told the bassist to get his own jacket or take his boyfriend’s. Brian looked at John expectantly.

As if he was just about to expose his innermost secret, John fumbled the hem of his t-shirt and cleared his throat. “Years ago, seventeen, to be exact, I had a chance to see the future, sort of.”

Brian looked at John as if he had just grown another head. “What?”

“I knew you won’t believe me.” John mumbled.

“No, I’m sorry Deaky.” Brian rubbed John’s shoulder. “Please go on.”

John let out a deep breath. “It was the years when we did our first American tour, the year that we got together, `74. Do you remember I went home to Leicester before we set off to the states?”

“Of course.” Brian replied sarcastically, “Fred went on and on about how you were planning to propose to Ronnie and annoyed me to no end. I was ecstatic when you said you broke up with her after you got back.”

“I broke her heart. I’m lucky that she still talks to me.” John sighed, “and the reason I did that was…”

“Was because you love me.” Brian smirked.

“Well yes.” John rolled his eyes. “But that’s not all. I was only 23 years old Brian and rather scared. I never liked a bloke before you and hell I didn’t even know for sure how you felt about me. For all I knew you could have thought you were kissing Chrissie in your drunken stupor.”

Brian grinned as he remembered that early summer night when he and the bassist shared their first kiss. Without alcohol he would not have the courage to make that bold move, but he remembers the sweet taste of John’s lips as if it was yesterday. The old saying was right, fortune does favor the bold.

“What helped you to make up your mind then?”

“That’s just it. I got a chance to see the future. I had a car accident on my way there and hit my head.” Seeing the fear rising in Brian’s hazel eyes, John immediately said. “I was fine. Nothing bad happened but a mild concussion. While I was out, I did see my grandfather though, who passed away four years ago then. And he showed me what the future would hold, sort of. Then after I saw enough, I woke up.”

“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming Deaky?” Brian asked hesitantly.

“Believe me, Brian. I had been asking myself that question for the past seventeen years. In the beginning I was sure it had all been a dream. But in the last couple of years, it became painfully real.”

“What did you see then?” Brian was becoming more curious.

“He knew I was trying to decide whether to propose to Veronica. He also knew I had feelings for you. So he basically showed me what the future would be like if I proposed to Veronica that week I was at home, or if I didn’t and pursued my feelings for you.”

“Did you travel to the future?” Brian was absolutely dumbfounded.

“No, I just got to see it. I saw myself, you, Freddie, Roger, and many other people around us in the future. I saw that you had feelings for me just as I did for you and we were happily together in the years to come. That gave me the courage so I broke up with Ronnie.” John smiled.

It was pretty clear that Brian was musing over the information and racking his brain to find a scientific explanation for it. John squeezed his hand, “Brian, stop thinking about it. I thought about it for seventeen years, there is no logical explanation to this.”

“Alright.” Brian gave up in resolution, “did the future happen as you saw it then?”

“I didn’t see every single detail. But from what I saw and what I remember I saw, it was pretty accurate.” John nodded. “Queen was a massive success, and we are still together.”

“You are telling me Deaky, that you knew exactly what was going to happen in the past seventeen years and you just kept all those to yourself. You could have told us and maybe we could have done things differently.” Brian exclaimed.

“That’s just the point Brian. I didn’t want anything to be different. I liked this future. Four of us still together, still playing and touring as Queen. You and me still together.” John said in a quiet voice. “I was so scared that I would have done something to change it, and the future won’t be the same.”

It was a common connection between couples, Brian immediately understood what John meant. He felt a twinge in his heart that the younger man kept all these burden to himself for so long. It must have weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Brian put his long arm around John and pulled him close. “So are you happy in this future universe Deaky?”

“Of course. I couldn’t be happier.” John murmured, burying his face in Brian’s shirt.

“Me too Deaky.” Brian kissed the top of John’s head. “Then what has been troubling you recently?”

John was quiet for a bit. Brian was wondering if he heard him. Just as he was about to repeat the question, John lifted his head up to face Brian, with a forlorn look in his eyes. “I didn’t see it any further than now. The last scene I remember was our show in Madison Square Garden on my birthday.”

“You don’t know what happens from now on, so you are afraid of what the future may hold?” Brian asked.

It sounded silly and immature now that Brian had said his thought out aloud. John lowered his head to avert the older man’s gaze. “I know it sounds stupid. I worry about what would happen to you, to me, to us now that I don’t know. What if your hepatitis comes back, would you be okay? What if Freddie gets sick…”

Brian laughed gently and lifted up John’s chin to stop the younger man from stammering. “Hey, Deaky, look at me. No one knows what the future has in store. Well I guess except you for the last seventeen years. But we are together, you, me, Freddie, and Roger. And we can face whatever the world or life throws our way.”

It was a surreal moment really. John almost felt the last seventeen years play by in front of his eyes. The places they had been around the world, the crowds they had met and performed for, the laughter, the tears, the joy, the despair. What was constant was Brian’s supportive and loving gaze, his warm hand, never falter, never waver. He laughed at himself for being so stupid and overthinking this. It’s simple really. As long as he had family and friend around him that was Queen, there was nothing to fear.

A bright smile spread across John’s face, he looked around to make sure no one was looking in the dimly lit cabin and placed a chaste kiss on Brian’s lips.

They sat there quietly for a bit, though John could almost hear the wheels in Brian’s head turning. He turned to the guitarist and broke the silence, “do you have more questions Brian?”

“Deaky, did you see what would happen in the future if you did propose to Veronica?” Brian knew he had to ask.

John cursed under his breathe. He wished Brian wouldn’t ask that but it was only natural. “I sure did.” John muttered.

“What happened in then? Did you marry her? What about me? What about us?” Curiosity was an understatement. The last seventeen years with John had been happier than he could ever dreamt of and he couldn’t imagine a life where John was married to Veronica.

“Yes. I married Ronnie. In turn you married Chrissie…” John replied.

“What? So we never told each other how we felt? We were never together.” Brian blurted out in shock.

“Oh, we were together alright.” John’s tone was sarcastic, “we snuck behind our wives, kids and had an affair pretty much since the time we got married to just about now when I saw enough and woke up.”

Brian’s eyes widened, “what?” This sounded so outrageous that Brian couldn’t even wrap his mind about it.

“Yes. It sounds ridiculous but it was what happened apparently.” John said matter-of-factly, “I had six kids with Ronnie. You had three with Chrissie. The affair went on for so long. Chrissie divorced you a couple of years ago because she knew and couldn’t stand it anymore. I’m sure Ronnie would have divorced me if I watched further into the future.”

“Gosh.” Brian muttered. Many years ago, he did consider a life with Chrissie but now imagine now how could he have managed marriage with her and an affair with John. It would have been a nightmare that he was glad he’s not living in right now.

“For whatever reason, the images were clearer in my head recently. Right before I stopped watching, you had just asked me to choose between a life with you and life with Ronnie and six kids. It was quite painful to watch back then, but now I almost regret not continue to see what I ended up choosing.” John snickered at himself.

“Deaky, did you enjoy having kids?” Brian asked suddenly, with a serious look on his face.

“What?” John was caught in surprise.

“You said you had six children with Veronica. Did you enjoy that life? Having kids, being a father. Because as much as I love you Deaky, there are things I couldn’t offer.” Brian looked so dejected that John can’t help but lean over and hug him, trying to ease the guilt in his hazel eyes.

“Brian, as much as I like children, I would never think about trading a life with you for that.” John squeezed Brian tightly.

They held onto each other for a bit, savoring the closeness when everyone else in the cabin was sound asleep. Brian caught a sight of their other two bandmates snoring and couldn’t help but ask, “what about Roger and Freddie then? Were we still together as Queen in the other future?”

John froze. He wanted to shut those images of Freddie, so sick and emancipated yet so brave, barely having enough energy to make a voice but still singing his heart out in the microphone hitting every note; of the press, constant hounding Freddie and wouldn’t leave him in peace in his last couple of days on Earth; of the funeral, how brave Brian was making the speech, keeping a straight face while bleeding inside.

Brian felt John almost turn totally rigid at his question. He let go of the younger man so he could look at him. John’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, breathe was ragged and visible beads of sweat were forming across his forehead. Seeing the bassist in such a panicked state almost freaked Brian out.

“Deaky?” Brian wiped the sweat off John’s forehead with the back of his hand. He cupped John’s chin rubbing circles on his cheeks. The mere touch of Brian’s hand on John’s face seemed to calm him down. His breath became more regular and opened his green eyes.

“Deaky? What’s wrong? You scared me.” Brian’s voice was full of apprehension. “Was it Roger? Freddie?”

“It’s not a pretty future Brian, I don’t think you would want to hear about it.” Less panicked than a minute ago, John was still uneasy.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to Deaky.” Brian rubbed John’s back, “but I don’t want to keep it all to yourself and cause anxiety.”

“It’s okay. I will tell you if you are ready. It will help me.” John took a deep breath. “Freddie was sick in the other future, very sick, he had AIDS.”

“Are you joking? He tested negative years ago.” Brian was horrified.

John shook his head. “He tested positive in the late 80s, but we continued to record album almost up until the day he passed, which was later this year. He was so sick, Brian.” John choked on a sob and buried his head on Brian’s shoulder.

Brian held onto John. He looked over to the seat behind him. Freddie was peacefully snoring beside Roger, looking healthy and charming. He couldn’t imagine the front man being anything but full of charisma and energy. Freddie is a legend, a performer. He belongs to the people, to their fans.

“Was Jim there?” Brian asked.

He felt John nod on his shoulder. “He was with Freddie until the end. But they got together much later, in `86 I think. I think the difference was when Freddie contracted the disease, probably in Munich in early 80s.”

Bloody Munich. That just gave Brian another reason to hate the city. “So somehow due to the intertwined forces in the universe, you not proposing to Veronica and us being together saved Freddie’s life.” Brian concluded. “That’s fuckin fantastic.”

“Yes.” John agreed. “That’s why I tried to forget everything I saw as much as possible for the last seventeen years. I was so scared of messing something up so the future be different and Freddie may get sick again.  Or maybe your hepatitis would come back. Or maybe we would have broken up in Munich...”

“Hey Deaky,” Brian cupped John’s face again and looked into his green eyes to stop him from rambling. “You don’t need to be scared anymore. You don’t know anything more than anyone else. We live in a happy universe. Freddie is healthy, here with us. I’m here so is Roger. Whatever happens from now on, we face together.”

John leaned into Brian’s touch and beamed. It did feel good to tell Brian what he had held to himself for almost the past two decades. He felt a great weight off his shoulders.

Whatever happens from now on, we face together. Brian’s word echoed in John’s ear.

Together they will be, they just didn’t know how much they needed each other. Brian and John did get a preview though. When they got home, there were a collection of messages in the answer machine. The last one almost made Brian drop dead.

“Hi Brian, it’s your mother. I thought you would like to know that your father passed 2 nights ago due to a complication from lung cancer. I tried contact you earlier but I guess you were touring out of the country. We are holding a funeral for him this Sunday in the church down the street. I don’t know if you will be back by then. But if you are back in England and would like to come, it will be at 3pm.”


	18. Chapter 17

Memories of childhood and teenage years flooded Brian as he sat on the couch the next day afternoon before leaving for his father’s funeral. His father teaching him how to read music when he was merely a boy. Two of them together building his Red Special in his teenage years. Two of them playing together when he came home from Uni.   
His mother always said they were both stubborn heads. Brian remember how his father got so mad at him for quitting his doctorate studies when Queen started to get big. They didn’t talk for a couple of years until he flew his parents to New York City to see their show in Madison Square Garden in 1978. Oh how proud and happy his father was after the show.   
This time was the longest that his father refused to talk to him. Last time Brian saw his father was on his 60th birthday in 1985, when with some strange liquid courage likely from the gin that he decided to come out to his parents with the truth about the relationship he had with the bass player in the band.   
Get out of my house! As long as you are still living with him, don’t ever come back. I never want to see you again!   
Those words still stung deeply. Nevertheless, Brian still desperately wished he had a chance to see his father in his last days. When did he get diagnosed with lung cancer? When did he get really sick?   
“Brian?” John came downstairs with a worried look, “why are you still sitting here. You should get started on the drive. You don’t want to be late.”   
Brian turned to John and held out his hand. “Deaky, come here?”   
John did not need to be asked twice. He snuggled up to Brian on the couch and leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder while the taller man wrapped an arm around John.   
“How are you feeling?” John squeezed Brian’s other hand.   
Brian closed his eyes and leaned his cheek on John’s head. “I have been better.”   
They sat in comfortable silence, leaning onto one another, enjoying each other’s scent.   
It was Brian who broke the silence. “Deaky, in the other future you told me about on the plane back, did my father die?”   
John looked at Brian apprehensively. He almost wanted to cry. Please don’t do this Brian, he whispered under his breath. Don’t blame yourself for this. Don’t blame us.   
“Unfortunately, he did Brian.” John sighed. “He passed away around the same time as now, the same year as Freddie did.” John held onto Brian tighter. “Please don’t blame yourself for this Brian. We were on the other side of the world. There was no way you would have known.”   
“I just wish I could have seen him one last time, ask if he was able to accept me finally.” Brian choked. “I feel such a failure as a son. I didn’t even know when he was diagnosed with lung cancer.”   
“I’m sorry Brian.” John murmured. “My father passed away when I was very young so I don’t have much memory of him. I know how close you were to yours. This must be devastating for you.”  
Brian kissed the top of John’s head. “It is difficult to digest. But I’m so glad I have you with me.”   
“I love you Brian. I will always be with you, as long as you will have me.” John intertwined his slender fingers with Brian’s.   
Brian visibly relaxed with the closeness of John. “Are you sure you can’t go with me Deaky?”   
“I don’t think it will be a good idea.” John shook his head. “Your mother, your whole family will be there. You have no idea how they will react. I’m sure you don’t want to make a scene in your father’s funeral. He will not be happy.”   
“You are probably right.” Brian mumbled grumpily.   
“I can drive you though if you want.” John offered.   
Brian shook his head. “I’m not an invalid. You don’t need to waste your time Deaky. I will be brave and drive myself.”   
“Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”  
Brian arrived at the church right before ceremony started. Laying in the casket in his best Sunday suit, his father looked a lot older than Brian remembered from the last time they met. Goodbye Dad, I hope the next time we meet, you will accept me. Brian whispered as the ashes landed on the shiny wooden casket.   
“Brian” Brian turned around and saw his mother calling his name. The last six years had not been kind to her and she also looks older than Brian remembered.   
Brian gently hugged the elder woman and kissed her cheek. “Mom, how are you holding up?”   
“It was a relief in the end for him actually because he was suffering so much.” His mother sighed causing Brian to feel a twinge of guilt.   
“I’m glad you could make it though. I wasn’t sure you would be back. When did you come back?”   
“Yesterday actually and I heard your message.” Brian cleared his throat.   
“Oh, that must be a terrible shock.” His mother rubbed Brian’s arm.   
“It was.” Brian nodded. “Mom, when did Dad get sick? Why didn’t you tell me?”   
His mother lowered her head to avert Brian’s hurt and questioning gaze. “It was a year ago. He smoked all his life and wouldn’t not go see a doctor until I forced him to when he started to cough up blood. It was not even a surprise to him when the doctor told us the diagnosis. I wanted to tell you and tried to convince him, but he is so stubborn. And you are just like him.”   
“I would have rescheduled the tour if you told me he was really sick so I would be in the country. Maybe I could have seen him one last time.” Even though he knew his mother did her best, but he still couldn’t help sounding disappointed.   
“I’m sorry Brian.” His mother grabbed Brian’s hands and squeezed them between her own. “You will be glad to hear that he did come around near the end though. He said he couldn’t be prouder of you and wanted to apologize.”   
“Really?” Brian felt his eyes getting wet from the tears of relief and joy. His father finally accepting him for who he is. It’s like a dream come true.   
“Yes Brian. You have done amazing things.” His mother smiled proudly at him. “Not only as a musician, but as a human being. I don’t understand the choices you made, but from now on, I will try to support them.”   
Brian hugged his mother again. “Thanks Mom. That means the world to me.”   
“And your friend, did he not come today?” His mother asked while looking around.   
Brian shook his head.   
“It’s okay, Brian. Do bring him with you next time you come for dinner.” His mother said sincerely.   
Brian wiped some tears off the corner of his eyes. “I will Mom. I think he would like that too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters of reflection and fluff. Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated. :D.   
> Get ready for some sharp plot turns next chapter.


	19. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy strikes the band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be forewarned, the next couple of chapters are going to be dark and full of angust.

  
1992  
Brian could not believe what the fuck just happened. One minute they were just getting on the limousine to leave the induction ceremony for Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with multiple cameras flashing, the next minute, it was complete chaos and John was laying in his arms.  
It was a great honor to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and be among the best rock legends of all times. They were excited for the trip to Cleveland, Ohio and visit the establishment for the first time on the southern bank of Lake Erie. However, Brian felt something was not right before he left for the trip. A kind of sixth sense, if you will.  
The ceremony was well organized. Their performance was amazing and well received. It had been a perfect night really, with the back drop of breath-taking Lake Erie sunset and cool early spring breeze, catching up with old friends and meeting new ones.  
Perfect night until the very end. It was close to midnight when they finally were able to leave. On top of the jet lag, Brian felt he could fall asleep on his feet. So many people surrounded them as they were getting ready to go on the limousine. Reporters, fans, security guards, crowds and crowds of people. Yet through all those crowd, by some random forces of the universe, some maniac was still able to sneak in.  
Brian was walking beside Freddie, answering reporters’ endless questions. Roger was right behind him. He didn’t know exactly where John was but likely sandwiched between the three of them. They had an unspoken pact that the three of them always shielded the press from their youngest bandmates who loathed answering any questions.  
Brian remembering hearing a deep voice yelling, “go die faggot” and hear sounds that were akin to fire crackles. He would not have paid too much attention to that if it wasn’t for a force pushing toward Freddie causing them both to fall on the ground. Next thing he knew, there was a body on top of him and warm, sticky fluid seeping through his fingers.  
“Deaky!!” Brian heard Freddie’s screeching voice snapped him back to reality. He got up quickly and gently laid the body to the gound. It was John, with eyes half closed, normally already pale skin now turned to a color of a sheet, from forehead to the neck, even the rosy lips are losing its color. Brian saw three bullet holes on John’s jumper, which is quickly saturating with blood.  
Absolute chaos ensued. Shouting, screaming, shrieking, people running away from, running toward, tripping on each other. However, in Brian’s eyes, everything was so far, far away. He did not even care at this point whether the gunman was still at loose. All he could see is the figure whose life is quickly disappearing in front of his eyes.  
Roger and Freddie were knelt on John’s other side. They took off their jackets with the futile attempt to put pressure on John’s wounds. The blood is escaping and staining the jackets just as quickly as it had saturated John’s jumper.  
“Would someone please call a bloody ambulance!” That was Roger’s bawl. Brian do not recall he’s ever heard Roger, or anyone for that matter, having a pitch of voice that high. He almost didn’t think it was within the sound frequency of human hearing capability.  
“Deaky. It’s okay, help is on the way.” Freddie sobbed on Roger’s shoulder, “you will be okay love.”  
What the hell is wrong with you. The most important person, the love of your life is dying in front of your eyes and all you can think about is sound frequency.  
John was looking at Brian, dim gaze behind the drooped eye lids. A ghost smile appeared around the bassist’s lips.  
Brian used his hand to gently caress John’s cheek and chin, shivering at how cold his skin felt under his fingers. In a futile attempt to speak, John parted his lips and blood start to dribble through. He made an incomprehensible sounds like a whimper. John closed his eyes and tried again. This time, his voice was barely audible, "love you, Bri."  
The guitarist’s eyes had been surprisingly dry up to this point felt the flood gates just opened. Brian felt tears spilling over his eyes and streaming down his cheek. He had always dreamt of hearing those words from John, but not in these circumstances, never in these circumstances. "I know Deaky. I love you too, so much." Brian choked on his sobs, "you are going to be fine, Deaky. Don't try to speak again. Just focus on breathing. Breathe evenly and stay with me. "  
Brian noticed something moving at the corner of his eyes. He looked down and saw John was trying to move his left hand. Brian quickly wrapped his hand around it. He kissed John's knuckles before pressing the younger man's hand against his chest. Brian could feel his own heart racing rapidly against their hands.  
John opened his mouth again as if he wanted to say something again. But he just started coughing violently, with spurts of blood coming from his mouth, causing him not able to breathe. Brian froze, not knowing what to do.  
“Quick Brian, he needs to be on his side.” Roger hollered at him. With the drummer’s help Brian turned John to his side but the bassist suddenly convulsed and even larger amount of blood spilled from his mouth. Some splattered onto Brian’s face but he could care less.  
“Breath John! Damn it!” Roger yelled. John grew even whiter and lips turned purple from the lack of oxygen. Roger wrapped his arm around John's shoulder to sit him up a bit see if it would help the bassist breathe. John was desperately trying, but just end up with more aggressively coughing more blood.  
“Where the hell is that bloody ambulance!” Roger continued to scream, “shit, he’s not breathing.”  
“It’s on the way.” A couple of voices from the crowd yelled back.  
Brian had never felt so useless. He knelt there, covered in John’s blood, mind completely blank and muscles totally froze. He felt as if he was in a trance had no control over his body. He wanted to cry, to scream, to strangle the maniac who did this, and to hug John tightly against his chest. Yet he did none of those. He just knelt there.  
He watched John suddenly turn totally limp. His eyes closed and his head lolled to the crook of Roger's shoulder. Roger lifted John's face so he could look at him. He slapped John's face a couple of times with no response. With blood still gushing through the chest wound and John’s lips growing bluer by the second. He watched Freddie panicking, fretting around and yelling for help to everyone and anyone in close range.  
“He’s not breathing! Where the hell is the ambulance! Help please!”  
Brian never thought the sound of siren was such a great melody. He made a mental note to include it in his next song. Two paramedics were running toward them holding a gurney.  
"He's not breathing!" Roger yelled at them. One man kneeled at John's side and the other at his head.  
"You need to move back sir." The paramedic nudged Brian with no success until Roger and Freddie dragged him 2 feet away. He never took his eyes off John.  
The paramedics started resuscitation right away. They cut away John's jumper, put a pressure dressing on the 2 holes in the chest, 1 hole on the right shoulder, and started suctioning John’s mouth for blood.  
"Blood pressure 60/40. Heart rate 55. Oxygen 80%.... We need airway now. I am going to intubate. Can someone work on the IV....."  
Brian's whole body was shaking and his legs barely able to hold him up. He could not do anything but watch. When the paramedics were able to get a tube in John's mouth and his lips started to lose its blue tinge. Brian felt as if he took the first breathe in his life.  
As they rolled John's limp body to the gurney and started loading gurney to the ambulance, Brian still froze there though his gaze never left the bassist there while Roger and Freddie followed. The paramedic turned back and said, “I’m sorry but there is only room for one additional person to ride on the ambulance with the patient.”  
Roger turned around and called to the guitarist, “what are you standing there for, you twat. Get moving and go with him.” He practically dragged and pushed Brian onto the ambulance.  
The trip in the ambulance was much slower than Brian expected. With lights flashing and siren ringing, he thought they would be in the hospital immediately like shown on tele. Not only that, the ambulance is so crowded Brian did not know where to stand. He just wanted to touch John’s hand, maintain some form of contact to convince himself the younger man hasn’t left him. But even that was not practical. To make things worse, there was endless questions for him.  
“Name?”  
“John Richard Deacon.”  
“Birthday?”  
“August 19th, 1951.”  
“Any medical issues you know of?”  
Brian shook his head.  
“Does he take any medications on regular basis?”  
“No”  
“Does he smoke, drink, or use any recreational drugs?”  
“Are these questions all necessary?” Brian snapped. “Why don’t you got help save him rather than asking stupid questions?” In the back of his head, he could hear the biologist or dentist in Roger telling him those are all very important medical questions they absolutely need to know in order to help John to the best of their ability. But Brian could not do it any longer. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to suffocate if he stayed in this confined box any longer.  
Luckily, the ambulances halted suddenly. They finally arrived at the hospital. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do like writing about hurt Deaky. Hope you enjoy and comments will be appreciated.


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know last chapter was a surprising turn of events. But don't worry, the plot has been planned out. The following couple of chapters are all going to be full of angst and dark stuff. But they do care and support each other.

The press was already camping outside the emergency room forcing the ambulance to almost drive directly into the trauma bay. In the hospital John was received by a group of doctors and nurses. Brian could only make 2 words out of all the hospital language, blood and surgery. He kept following John's bed until one nurse stopped him from following any further.

"I am sorry sir but you cannot go any further. They are taking him straight to the operating room. He is in good hands. " The nurse looked at the blood on Brian's face and asked, " I think you should get checked up too sir. Are you hurt?"

Brian shook his head. "These are all Deaky's blood." He felt tears starting to threatening stream down his face again.

The nurse is at loss of what to do but show Brian the glass door by the hallway. "This is a private waiting room. We will keep you updated on the progress." She gently patted his shoulder.

Brian found a bench by the corner and sat down, wondering if Roger and Freddie would ever find him here. He did not know what to do. He did not even know what to think. The exhaustion the jet lag and the evening ceremony activities are starting to catch up with him but the thought of rest never passed his mind. He looked down his hands filled with blood. John's blood. Brian hated that he couldn't be by John's side. While John was fighting for life, all he could do was sulking in this bench.

Brian passed his hand through his curls and took a deep, even, steadying breathe. He gathered up all his energy to stand up and walked to the bathroom on the other side of the waiting room. As if all his emotions went overboard and started to flow out of him, he vomited on the floor. He leaned against the wall and took a shaky breath. When Brian caught his reflection on the mirror, he almost scared himself. No wonder the nurse was looking at him oddly. He looked like a monster from a horror movie. Curls all tangled, eyes are swollen and face covered with blood.

Brian turned on the facet and tried to wash all the blood off his hands and face. He looked back into the mirror and a man that he does not recognize stared back. Eyes all red and swollen, dark circles below the eyes are extremely apparent on the pale face.

He shook his head in disgust. The smell of the vomit on the floor was enough for him to run away from the bathroom back to the waiting area.

Brian was naturally a reflective person. Too reflective sometimes that he was scared to be alone with his thoughts because they always led to very dark places. Luckily, Freddie and Roger found him fairly quickly in the waiting room.

“How is Deaky?” Roger rushed in and asked Brian.

“They took him to surgery.” Brian spoke in a rather calm voice that surprised everyone including himself.

“How are you holding up dear?” Freddie sat beside him in the hard bench rubbing his back.

Brian didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. He is still convinced that none of this is real. He will wake up any minute now and realize this is all a dream, that John is resting peacefully in bed beside him, or safely snuggled in his arms.

“I can’t believe Deaky did that.” The singer continued, voice breaking into a sob. “He shielded us from the bullets. They were aimed at us, Brian. We should have been the ones in there, fighting for life. Not dear Deaky.”

Roger put his arms around Freddie and the singer clang to him for dear life. Brian froze. He had not thought about exactly happened during those worst couple of moments of his life. But Freddie’s words made him to relive those couple of moments. Freddie was right. They were walking in front while John was likely behind them when someone opened fire. But John suddenly appeared in front of them, pushing them away and caught the bullets himself.

“Oh God Deaky.” Brian choked out a muffled cry. He never doubted how much John loved him, and this was yet another confirmation. If John couldn’t make it, Brian shuddered at the thought and immediately shut his eyes. He did not want to think about it because he didn’t know what he would do.

They sat there, felt like for centuries. Brian had no idea how much time had passed. 8, 9 hours? He vaguely remembered it being close to midnight when the induction ceremony ended, the bright sun shone outside the window now indicate it was at least midmorning. Brian tried to focus but his mind is going just about a thousand kilometers per minute. And they are all images of John, over the years.

Their assistant Mac that flew with them for this trip came by and said Jim Beach boarding a plane and will arrive later today.

“Did they get the maniac who did it?” Roger asked.

Mac nodded his head. “They cornered him about an hour after it happened. He wouldn’t surrender so they shot him dead.”

“That’s it?” Roger exclaimed. “That’s too easy. I wish we could torture him and drain his blood until the very last drop.”

“That’s still not going to make Deaky any better.” Freddie replied in exhaustion.

“God.” Roger jumped up in frustration, “all these new rules now about non-smoking areas. I need a fag. I’m going outside. Fred you want to come?”

“Umm, I won’t recommend that. There are reporters and cameramen surrounding every corner outside the hospital.” Mac warned Roger.

“Bloody hell.” Roger sat down grumpily.

“Shut up Roger. You are such an idiot.” Brian said vehemently. “Deaky is dying and all you can think about is getting your fag.”

“Fuck you, Brian.” Roger shouted back. “I was the one who held him and tried to get him to breath when he was choking on his blood. I was the one calling for help. What were you doing? Uselessly sitting there staring in space. If it wasn’t me pushing you onto the ambulance, you wouldn’t even have gone. Some lover you are.”

Roger’s harsh words were like thousands of pins stuck to Brian’s heart causing him to let out a shaky moan. He had no comeback because they were one hundred percent true.

“Shut it both of you.” Freddie called out firmly. “Brian, Deaky is not dying, he is the strongest out of all of us. Roger, you can live without your smoke. We can’t afford to fall apart now.”

The door of the waiting room opened just in time. A man in scrubs with a doctor badge and mask hanging around the neck walked toward him.

"Friends of John Deacon? "

Brian immediately stood up. His feet so wobbly that he felt unsteady all the sudden.

"Are you okay Mr. May? Maybe you should sit down." The doctor asked in concerned voice. He caught Brian's arm preventing him from falling down. Brian quickly nodded.

"I'm doctor Adams and I had been operating on Mr. Deacon for the past couple of hours. It went as well as it could have considering the circumstances. 2 of the bullets pierced his right lung and damaged couple of major blood vessels in his body. Another one hit his right shoulder causing some nerve damage. We patched up the vessels and fixed the lung. He is out of the operating room being transported to the intensive care unit."

Brian wanted to feel relieved about John making it out of surgery. But the serious tone in doctor's voice only increased his anxiety.

"Is he, is he going to be okay?" Roger asked uneasily.

"He is fairly stable right now. But I cannot say that he is out of the woods yet." The doctor sighed. "The damaged lung is not working very well currently and he had lost a lot of blood. That is why he is on life support now. The bleeding seemed to have stopped inside the operating room, but we put in a couple of tubes draining from his chest to makes sure he doesn't bleed later. There is always the chance of infection or the damaged lung does not heal the way we hope. Also, I have to let you know." The doctor pauses assessing whether the three band members are in a well enough state for the next information. "He had been without oxygen for a while before the paramedics found him, and his heart did stop beating a couple of times while on the operating table. I cannot tell you how much damage those had done to his brain. We will just need to wait until he wakes up. Also, the nerve damage from the bullet on the right shoulder is quite significant. The effect on the future function of his right hand and arm cannot be determined right now."

Freddie let out a gasp and covered his mouth with his hands, “so can he still play bass?”

Doctor Adams looked on the floor, “it’s hard to tell right now. Since playing a musical instrument involves intricate fine movements of the fingers so I think it would be difficult. But then again, physical therapy and rehabilitation have made major advancements recently and miracles do happen.”

Oh god no. Brian felt tears streamed down his face. 15 years ago he told John he would much rather die than to lose his right arm and not able to play guitar. He did not know what he would do if John made the same request to him. His only hope is the younger man is much stronger than he is.

“Can we see him?” Roger asked.

The doctor nodded. “We usually only allow two visitors at a time in the ICU. But since we are all big fans of you guys so we put Mr. Deacon in a private ICU room. All three of you can come but do limit it to four maximum at a time.”

Doctor's harsh words of lung, blood, brain and nerve damage were still ringing in Brian's head as he followed him toward the empty corridors leading to the ICU, where John is now. He looked through the window and swallowed nervously when he saw John laying in one of those large beds.

A nurse showed them inside, "you can stay as long as you want through the day until visiting hours are over at 8pm. If you need anything, just ask me."

They went closer to the bed John laying under layers of blankets and drapes. He was barely recognizable with so many lines, drains and tubes coming out of his body. His face was still pale but looked better than previous night laying on the pavement.

Even since his hepatitis, Brian hated hospitals. He hated the smell of disinfectant and blood. He found the constant beeping of the machines to be insufferable. He loathed the idea of being vulnerable or see anyone else in that state. He hated how he couldn't control what happens inside these walls. He felt extremely nauseous and barely able to stand but he was desperate to be by John's side.

Freddie and Roger found three small plastic chairs by the corner of the room. They dragged them to John's bedside, two on one side and one on the other. Brian and Roger sat on the left side of the bed while Freddie sat on the right. The chairs were extremely uncomfortable. He carefully took John's free left hand and held it to his lips.

Seeing John at this state, looking small and weak on the huge ICU bed, just hit it home for Brian. This was not a nightmare, this was very real. The ceremony, the shooting, the blood, the agonizing wait, were all very real. As if the flood gates were let open, Brian broke down. He buried his face on the bed sheet and cried.

"Deaky, I love you." Brian bawled. “I’m sorry I don’t tell you enough how amazing you are. Come back. Please don’t leave me, you are the love of my life. Please don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me.”

Sitting beside him, Roger couldn’t hold in his own tears. He put his arm around Brian’s shoulders and buried his face on the guitarist’s back.

The respirator machine continued to make that wheezing sound with every breathe it delivered to John through the large tube coming from John's mouth, syncing with the rise and fall of John's chest. The constant beeping sound from the bedside monitor indicates John's heart-beat. Normally that would have annoyed the three bandmates to no end, but at this moment, they found them surprisingly soothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one is going to die or there would be a warning of major character death. Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated. :D.


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Band still dealing with the aftermath of the tragedy.

When Brian opened his eyes, the evening sun bathed the ICU room through the small window and gave it a golden hue. It took him a good half a minute to realize where he was and what had happened in the last 24 hours. With that thought he almost wished he could go back to sleep and not ever wake up. John was still there just as before, attached to lines and tubing, the only signs of life were the rise of his chest with the wheezing of the respirator. Roger was sitting across from him on the other side of the bed.

“God I can’t believe I fell asleep.” Brian rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

“What’s surprising about that. You haven’t slept the last 36 hours. We all dozed off at some point.” Roger scratched his blond head. “It’s getting dark, 7:30 or so.”

He turned around on his chair and handed Brian a Styrofoam box. “Mac got us some food. He even remembered to get you a vegetarian pasta. Have some, it’s still warm.”

Brian shook his head. The thought of food made him nauseous. But the drummer wasn’t having it. “You haven’t had anything for 24 hours. I am not having you passing out on me. We have enough bollocks to deal with.”

More so to shut Roger up, Brian took the box. He picked at the pasta noodle with a plastic fork pretending he’s even slightly interested. “Where is Fred?”

“Miami got here. So he and Fred decided to go outside to tell the press to fuck off.” Roger got up and stretched his arms. He started cleaning up some of the garbage they created sitting there all day. Brian took the chance to dump the pasta in the trash can away from Roger’s sight.

“Miami got us a suite in the hotel across the street. I told him one would be enough for three of us. I don’t want to be alone right now. I doubt you or Freddie would either.” Roger snuffled.

“We are leaving?” Brian’s voice quivered. He tightened his hold on John’s hand.

“Visitor hour ends at 8. We will be kicked out anyway. Besides, we need to shower, change and stop looking like monsters from a fuckin horror movie.” Roger drew down the blinds as the sun is disappearing behind the skyline.

Brian reached up and brushed John’s soft hair from his forehead. He didn’t want to leave. The thought of John alone in the cold, strange hospital bed made his heart weep.

Freddie rushed in, with a murderous look on his face, with Miami following close behind. “Let’s go. The nurses were hinting at me we should leave.”

“What’s wrong Fred? Those wankers didn’t like your answers? What did you tell them?” Roger asked curiously.

“You will find out soon enough.” Freddie spat out. “They can all sod off.”

As soon as the frontman got to John’s bedside though, he turned back to his sweet and gentle self. He kissed the bassist’s cheek and murmured. “Be good Deaky. We will come see you tomorrow.”

Brian also leaned down and kissed John on the forehead. “I love you Deaky. I wish I could stay.” He stared at John’s still face, looking so young in the huge ICU bed, carding his fingers through John’s velvety hair, until Roger practically had to drag him out the door.

“Are there reporters still outside?” Brian asked as he was being dragged down the hall.

“We are leaving through the side entrance.” Miami sighed, “besides, they have plenty to write and talk about for a while.”

Brian looked at Freddie skeptically, who gave him a guilty look. “I’m sorry Brian. I told them the truth about you and Deaky, along with myself.”

Miami had arranged for their luggage to be transferred to their hotel room. Brian admited, he felt slightly better after shower and change into fresh cloth. His hands shook as he took off the shirt stained with dried blood, John’s blood and dumped it forcefully in the trash without a second look.

The TV was on playing late night local news as Brian came back to the room.

“British rock star John Deacon, bass player for the band Queen, who was fatally shot last night after the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony is still in critical condition. The gunman is 34 year old Caucasian man from Lima, Ohio who was shot dead during the police chase last night. It was believed the shooting was due to homophobia. The lead singer of Queen, Freddie Mercury met with reporters this evening and answered some questions. He answered the long asked question fans had regarding his sexuality. He is indeed gay and living with a partner in his property Garden Lodge in London. He also confirmed the guitar player Brian May and bass player John Deacon had been homosexual partners for 18 years…”

Freddie reached for the remote and shut off the TV. “I’m sorry Brian. They were saying such nasty things that I had to set the record straight.”

Brian sat down on bed and offered the singer a weak smile. This was just about the last thing on his mind right now. “It’s okay Fred. It is the truth. I could care less.”

“I went through the situation in my head at least a thousand times.” Freddie slumped down on the pillows. “How the hell did it happen? You and I were walking in front, Deaky and Roger were behind us. There were so many people around. How did the monster ever get by those security guards, and how did Deaky push us away so fast?”

Brian shook his head. He stared down at his hands. Although he cleaned them ten, maybe even twenty times, he still saw blood. John’s blood. He stood up to join Roger on the balcony hoping to get a breath of fresh air.

It’s a chilly but clear night with stars shimmering in the sky. Roger looked at Brian lop headed after letting out a long smoke. “Go back inside. I thought you hate the smell of cigarate.”

The guitarist was indifferent. He turned to the drummer and murmured. “I’m sorry Roger.”

Roger raised his eyebrows, “what for?”

“For yelling at you for wanting to smoke to calm your nerves. When you helped Deaky more than I ever could.” Brian leaned on the railing and sighed, “you were absolutely right. I was totally useless.”

Roger edged closer to Brian, “Brian, it’s okay. As much as you don’t want to believe, you panicked and things were out of your control. It’s because you love Deaky too much.”

Brian stared at the night sky. He liked the space since he was a young boy. He once wanted to be an astronaut, but then thought it would be more interesting to study the space and know as much about it as humanly possible. But tonight, he felt the stars that he once loved gazing were all mocking at him, at his incompetence of protecting and helping the one person most important to him. He never thought much about what life would be without John. Even after John confessed to him about the glimpse he got at the universe where they were both married. He couldn’t imagine a world like that and he didn’t want to. He didn’t think he ever had to.

But now, it just hit him. There was and still is a real chance that John could leave him, forever. Brian squeezed his hands into tight fists until his knuckles made cracking sounds. He wanted to crawl out of his skin only he didn’t know where to go. Why did it feel like they were monitoring his life in that ICU room rather than John’s. It’s not like he wanted to die if John didn’t make it, it’s more like a conviction he sure would. The reality is, he needed John like he needed air.

Brian never planned needing someone like this, like needing an element for ongoing survival. If John stopped breathing, so would he.

Was this how John felt when he had to undergo the limb saving surgery from gangrene after he contracted hepatitis? Brian hoped not. He didn’t want to wish this dreadful feeling on anyone, let alone his Deaky.

“I don’t think I can do this Rog.” Brian said, in a stunning calm voice, like it’s been decided after multiple thoughts. “I don’t think I can do this without Deaky.”

Roger was startled by the guitarist’s remark. Through the years he had known Brian, which was many years, Brian did not have a feisty personality, but he was a fighter. He would strategize the most intelligent and logical tactic. Sometimes he would hate Brian for that, especially when they were disagreeing over music in the studio. He had never seen Brian like this, calmly accepting his fate, as it he was on the death row.

“Don’t talk like that.” Roger took another long drag of the cigarate before stumping it on the ground. “Even the doctor said Deaky did as great as possible considering the situation. He is stronger and smarter than all of us. He’d come back.”

As the cold night breeze ruffled his long curls, Brian did something that he hadn’t done since he was twelve years old. He prayed.

Chaos, so much chaos, the people running, shouting, screaming, the blood, lots and lots of blood. And John’s lifeless body, face as white as the sheet, spurting blood from his mouth.

“Gah..” Brian immediately sit up on the bed. He had to bit his knuckles to stop himself from sobbing out aloud and wake up Freddie and Roger. Luckily, his other two bandmates were exhausted from the past two days and were still sound asleep. Brian sighed. He got up and went back out to the balcony.

There is no point in trying. He just had to wait until he was drained enough to be able to sleep with eyes open like he did in the hospital. Otherwise, sleep would not come voluntarily to him. Because as soon as he closes his eyes, all he could see is John’s blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated. :D.


	22. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all lovely people for the nice comments and kudos. Makes my day and give me energy to continue plan and write this fic. Angst is still there but things will get slightly better.

The next couple of days, Brian, Roger, and Freddie all spent as much time as they could by John’s bedside. According to the doctors and nurses, the bass player did look better every-day. The tubes and drains were starting to come out, or at least got smaller in size, which lifted everyone’s spirits. Freddie would sing to John in the ICU room, causing almost crowds of nurses, doctors, patient family visitors to come enjoy, cheer and clap. Roger would tell endless jokes, trying his hardest to keep everyone in a light mood. Brian would just sit there, stare at his lover’s still face. Sometimes he would talk, though he wasn’t sure anyone heard his words. Or if they made any sense at all.

Freddie and Roger were getting very concerned for the guitarist, who was starting to look like a zombie roaming the hospital hallways. It seemed the only sleep Brian could get was when he rested his head on John’s bed for an hour or two maximum during the day while holding tightly onto John’s hand. Even though Brian thought he hid it well, his two other bandmates knew he sat awake every night.

When Brian woke up from his nap this day, Roger and Freddie were not in sight. He saw the surgeon who operated on John the first night checking on his patient.

“Good afternoon Mr. May, do you remember me? Dr. Adams.” The doctor said in a rather cheery voice.

Brian nodded, “Hi Dr. Adams. How is he?”

“Doing as well as he could.” The doctor replied, “his lungs are healing very well, better than I expected considering he did smoke in the past. I even think we will be able to liberate him from respirator soon. Now I have ordered to turn off all sedation. We are just waiting for him to wake up, make sure there is no brain damage from the lack of oxygen on the first night, then we can take the tube out of his mouth and he will look much better.”

Brian shuddered at the words ‘brain damage’, he asked in a scared voice. “What if there is brain damage? Would he not wake up? What about his right arm?”

The doctor patted Brian’s shoulder, “think positive Mr. May. I have seen way worse patients came around. Mr. Deacon is relatively healthy otherwise. We will go one step at a time. We will worry about his arm after he wakes up.” The doctor frowned a little bit when he looked at Brian closely. “You should take better care of yourself Mr. May. You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine.” Brian replied quickly, rather defensive.

The doctor shrugged his shoulders, “we will watch how Mr. Deacon does. If all goes well, we should be able to remove the breathing tube very soon.”

John was strong. John would fight. Roger and Freddie said that multiple times. Brian trusted that and would hold onto that. There was no fuckin way John would just give up. Whatever the goddamn doctors were doing, John was meeting them more than halfway. Brian knew it. John was still in this huge bed, giving everything he’s got and he’s made of to keep on going.

After the doctor left, Brian couldn’t help but let out a deep breathe. He grabbed John’s hand and started to ramble. “Did you hear that Deaky? You are going to be fine. Now you just need to wake up. I…” Brian’s voice broke a bit and snuffled. “The last couple of days had been completely hell. I really can’t live without you Deaky. So please wake up and come back to me.”

Brian paused to wipe some tears off his cheeks before continuing in a shaky voice. “If you can’t play bass anymore, I swear I will never touch my Red Special again. We will leave this rock n’ roll life. I know you hate people and crowds. We can move to somewhere quiet and remote, like that farmhouse where we recorded A Night at the Opera all those years ago. We will get Freddie and Roger to come with us, and Jim, and Roger’s wife or girlfriend or both, whoever he prefers, along with Freddie’s cats and Roger’s children. Maybe even Miami and his family. If you want, we can adopt a child. Whatever you would want Deaky, I will try to make it happen for you. Just please come back to me.”

Brian buried his face on John’s bedsheets and sobbed. He honestly thought his tears would have been dried up by now. Roger and Freddie were standing by the doorway watching with troubled gaze.

“We are going to lose him.” Freddie sighed. “If Deaky doesn’t get better, we are going to fuckin lose Brian too.”

“It’s inevitable. He loves Deaky too much.” Roger leaned on the wall and looked at the singer with sad blue eyes, “if Deaky really can’t play bass anymore. I don’t know if I could continue my drums either.”

And this would be the end of Queen. Freddie immediately shook that thought away. “You are not helping Rog. One depressive poodle is enough. Remember what Dr. Adams just said, think positive.”

Miami came by to John’s room and announced, “great to catch all of you here. I have something to discuss with you.” Brian dried his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Roger and Freddie followed their manager inside.

“I don’t know if you still remember with all the happenings in the last few days, you do have a small tour booked in Asia this summer.” Miami sipped on some water he poured for himself.

“Oh shit.” Freddie ran his hand through his hair. “I totally forgot about that. But that’s still months away.”

The manager shook his head, “it’s closer than you think, the first concert is at end of May, 40 days away.”

“There is no way we can do it.” Roger stated matter-of-factly, “it will be many weeks before Deaky will be well enough to even play again, let alone touring.”

Freddie nodded in agreement.

“Arenas, hotels and flights are all booked. Every concert is totally sold out.” Miami pointed out.

“Cancel them.” Freddie said without a second thought, “refund people the tickets. Apologize to them and promise we will rebook the tour after John gets better. What else can we do?”

Miami sighed, “I know you are not going to like this, but the company wanted me to try to convince you to go ahead with the tour with a substitute bass player….”

“No fuckin way!” Roger yelled. “There is no way we are replacing Deaky.”

“Roger’s right.” Freddie added. “Queen wouldn’t be Queen without Deaky. I can’t believe you would even think of mentioning this idea to us. I’m disappointed in you Miami.”

Miami sighed, “I know you wouldn’t like this, and I told them about that. But if you see it from their perspective, it is much easier to just go ahead with the tour and have someone else playing the bass than cancelling the whole thing. Replacement would be temporary of course, just for this tour.”

“And I’m sure it would be more economically convenient too.” Brian muttered in the corner.

Freddie was pacing back and forth in the ICU room, swearing nonstop. “Those fuckin bastards. I can’t believe. All they care about is money and profit. Do they not know that Deaky could have died? He was this close.” He pinched his thumb and index finger together. “He’s still laying in bed in a coma and they are already thinking about replacing him with a load of bollocks. What the fuck. Tell those wankers we would refund those tickets personally if we have to.”

“Alright, Freddie, calm down.” Miami said in his most soothing voice, “it’s just a suggestion. No one is replacing John. I will let them know there is no way you guys are agreeing to this. They will cancel the tour, no issue.”

 Miami left swiftly, obviously didn’t want to cause more commotion in the otherwise quiet hospital ICU room.

Roger curled his hand into a fist and punched the wall with a light thud. “It’s the reality of business. Makes you realize how cold-blooded people can be. But Fred, Brian, don’t worry, I’m sure Miami will take care of it.” Roger turned around to address the guitarist, only to find the chair right by John’s bed that Brian sat just minutes ago now empty.

“Brian?” Roger called out down the hospital hall, causing nurses and doctors to look at him. He gave them an apologetic look and turned back to the singer.

“Shit, where did he go? I haven’t seen him leaving Deaky’s side willingly since we got here.” Roger was getting apprehensive.

“He’s probably at the rooftop of the building.” Freddie sighed. “He goes there when he gets to the hospital too early before the visiting hours start. I am convinced he only does that to get himself sick so he could be closer to Deaky. We should go check on him. Hopefully he doesn’t do anything stupid, that daft man.”

Roger stopped Freddie, “I will go check on him. You stay here with John. Remember the doctor said they turned off the sedatives already, Deaky could wake up any minute. We shouldn’t let him wake up alone.”

“You are right.” Freddie nodded, “God Rog, when did you get so smart.”

“It’s all relative Fred.” Roger winked before running off to the rooftop.

Roger did find Brian on the rooftop, leaning on the railing, dangerously close to the edge. “Brian,” Roger called out, causing the guitarist to turn around momentarily to look at him. “What are you doing here?”

Brian turned back, knuckles turning white while grabbing on the railing so tightly, making Roger nervous. “I had to leave. I needed some peace and quiet, before I punch someone and get kicked out of the hospital for violent behavior.”

The view was pretty decent with the skyline of the old industrial town and rays of sunshine breaking through the cloud shimmering on the waves of Lake Erie. Roger stood beside Brian and patted his shoulders, “it was only a futile suggestion Brian. Miami knows that, he only mentioned because he was forced to. You know those business wankers, all they care about is money.”

“Of course.” Brian clenched his teeth, “all those years they milked so much profit from us, as soon as something happens, they think of replacement. I know what they are doing. They know we wouldn’t agree to replace John for the tour, but its their way to put pressure on us. Just imagine if Deaky really can’t play bass for a long time, by then it wouldn’t be a discussion. It would be replacement or they will drop us.”

“Then drop us for all I care. We don’t need them and Deaky will pick up bass in no time, just watch.” Roger tried to guide the guitarist further away from the railing. “Just remember Brian, the four of us, you me, Fred and Deaky. We are family. We will face this or whatever comes together. But let’s just move away from the edge a bit, okay?”

Brian looked at his long-time friend and chuckled. “Are you worried I am going to jump Roger? As weak as I may be, I still wouldn’t bail now when Deaky is fighting with all he’s got.”

Roger let out a sigh of relief though he hoped it was too obvious. As they are walking away from the edge of the rooftop, they saw Freddie running toward them.

“Brian, Roger. Deaky woke up! The doctor and nurses are with him now taking the breathing tube out. Let’s go back.” Freddie yelled breathlessly.

Brian felt a new life suddenly injected back into him as he bolted toward the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deaky is awake. Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated. :D.


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just watched the Oscars. It's great Rami Malek won the well deserved Best Actor. Deaky wakes up, and the healing process will begin.

As Brian, Freddie, Roger reached John’s room, a group of doctors with Dr. Adams in the middle were walking out of the door.

“Great to see you gentlemen,” the doctor said cheerily. “We just took out the breathing tube for Mr. Deacon and his lungs sound great. Gross examination of his mental status did not show any sign of hypoxic brain injury from the lack of oxygen. He is still too sedated for us to fully examine his right arm, but the initial assessment shows the nerve injuries have pretty severe consequences.”

“Fuck.” Roger and Freddie swore under his breath.

Brian felt surprisingly happy. All that mattered to him was that his Deaky was back. They all rushed into the room. John looked so peaceful, reclining in bed, with a thin tubing delivering oxygen to his nose. He opened his eyes as he heard people coming through the door. John’s drowsy green eyes made Brian’s heart melt. He felt like it’s been a century since he had last seen them. He felt so happy that he blinked back the tears.

“Deaky!” Freddie called out in a sing-song voice and danced to John’s bedside pecking him on the forehead. Brian also went to sit down by the other side of the bed, grabbing onto John’s left hand. John was still very weak right now but Brian could tell that John was holding onto his hand with all his strength.

“How are you feeling Deaky?” Roger asked as he came to sit beside Freddie, toying with John’s soft hair.

With hoarse voice sounding like sandpaper John finally spoke, “tired, groggy. How long had I been out?”

“The induction ceremony was Saturday night,” Freddie recounted. “Today is Thursday.”

“The induction ceremony,” John’s green eyes opened wider, as if remembering something. “Are you guys okay? Fred, Roger, Brian? Are you hurt?”

Freddie put an arm around John’s shoulder, “Deaky. You are the only one hurt darling. And hurt bad. You scared the hell out of us. Especially Brian. He hardly slept a wink since you had been laying here. I don’t think he would have lasted much longer if you didn’t wake up soon.”

“Fred..” Brian protested pointlessly. 

“It’s true. Just look at how horrible he appears.” Freddie turned around stared in John’s eyes, “By the way, you are never to do that again, pushing me and Brian out of the way so bullet hit yourself. Do you understand? How do you think we would feel if you couldn’t make it?”

John closed his eyes and curled his lips into a lopsided smile. “I didn’t think that much at the spur of moment. It seemed the right thing to do. `m sorry I had you all so scared.”

“Deaky…” Brian choked on his words. John reopened his eyes and looked at him softly.

Sensing that the couple might want to be alone, Roger nudged Freddie, “Deaky’s finally waken up. We should celebrate. Let’s go get some food and bring back. What would you like Deaky?”

John shook his head but winced slightly due to pain around his neck close to the wound on right shoulder.

“Okay, okay.” Roger replied immediately, “don’t worry your pretty head over this. We will ask the doctors on our way out what kind of gooey stuff you are allowed to have.” He turned to the guitarist, “I’m getting you a vegetable soup, Brian. You have to finish it. Deaky, I’m leaving you in charge to make sure Brian finishes his soup.”

After Freddie and Roger left, John cleared his throat quietly and put on a faint smile. “How are you doing Brian?”

Brian seemed to suddenly lost the ability to talk. Just seeing John, sitting here on bed, green eyes gazing at him shimmering with love, the despair, fear and frustration of the last four days seem to melt like ice berg meeting the warm sunshine. He squeezed John’s hand harder, and brought it to his lips. Brian closed his eyes, allowing for the tears to stream down his cheek. He buried his head on John’s thigh and cried.

Seeing Brian in such a devastated state scared John. He had seen Brian cry before, but not loudly sobbing like that. Not when he was laying in hospital sick with hepatitis, not when he learnt that his father passed away. John remembered the dreadful time he waited in the hospital when Brian was undergoing surgery for gangrene. His eyes burned with tears as the thought Brian, Freddie, and Roger had just gone through the same ordeal, just this time much longer. John freed his left hand and carded his fingers through Brian’s curls while murmuring. “It’s okay, Brian. I’m back.”

“Deaky, I’m so sorry.” Brian sobbed. “I was so useless. Seeing you laying on that pavement, can’t breathe and choking on blood, I fuckin couldn’t do anything but watch. I wished it was me laying there…”

“I’m sorry Brian, for freaking you out, for scaring all of you.” John said quietly.

Brian sit up, lifted his hand and gently caressed John’s face as if he was the most precious thing he touched. “I couldn’t do anything without you. I didn’t think I could go on without you, Deaky.”

“I know. You look horrible.” John said sheepishly, “was Freddie right? Did you not sleep at all?”

“You know I can’t sleep well if you are not beside me. I will be able to now that I know you are better.” Brian confirmed, “don’t stress yourself worrying about me. Just focus on getting better. There are a lot of people who are crazy about you, Deaky. But my world would stop turning if anything happens to you.”

John’s lips curled up into a smile, laughed a little and coughed. “That was romantic.”

Brian shrugged, “no, it’s factual.”

John’s smile dropped. “That’s a hell a lot of pressure.”

“Can’t be helped.” Brian smiled, “I need you to be alive and well to exist, so stay that way.”

“I will try my hardest.” John felt the grogginess coming back to him as his eyes started to droop. “I think I may need to rest a bit again. But I want to make sure you are okay.”

“I’m okay? You are the one laying in the hospital.” Brian helped John to lower down on the bed.

“Yeah, but you are the one who can’t sleep. All I do is sleep. Drink something tonight if you have trouble sleeping.”

“Hey, worry about yourself.” Brian reminded him. He ghosted his fingers over the dressing on John’s chest. “You will have scars.”

“Would you still love me now I’m damaged goods?” John teased.

Brian laughed out aloud, heart soaring with love for the man laying in front of him. Feverish, hurt, in pain, but still remember to crack jokes to make him feel better. How can he not adore him. “I will put up with it. Now get some rest Deaky.”

“Love you Bri.” John whispered as he drifted off to dreamland briefly reminded Brian of that horrid night when John said the same words to him laying on the cold hard pavement. Brian shuddered at the memory and quickly shook it off.

“Love you too Deaky.” Brian leaned over to place a tender kiss on John’s forehead.

When Roger and Freddie came back to the hospital room with food, they saw John deep in slumber and Brian sitting at the bedside, who could not hide a foolish grin on his face.

“Deaky went to sleep again?” Freddie pouted.

“Well, he’s still very groggy from all the meds they have been feeding him. It’s pretty amazing he stayed awake to talk with us for as long as he did.” Roger explained.

“Well, this mush is not worth eating anyway.” Freddie made a disgusting face as looked at the jello he got as part of the food John was allowed to eat and throw it in the trash can.

Roger handed Brian a bowl of vegetable soup, “Brian, you have to finish this. No excuse today. You barely ate anything for the last four days.”

Brian still felt he had no appetite but he was happy to oblige. He vowed he will take better care of himself so John wouldn’t have to waste energy to worry about him.

“Brian, did Deaky ask about his right arm?” Freddie asked the guitarist who was working on his soup.

Brian froze for a bit and shook his head. “I think he’s still too tired to think about it clearly. But the whole time he was awake and we were talking, he didn’t move his right arm even a bit.”

“Oh fuck.” Roger muttered. “How are we going to tell him? Deaky will be so devasted.”

Freddie sighed, “I do hope what the doctor said was true, that physical therapy and rehabilitation make miracles happen.”

Brian set down his soup and stroked John’s soft hair with his fingers. “He’s back. That’s more important. I don’t know if miracles will happen. But I know John will try his damn hardest and give all he’s got. If that’s not enough, then that’s not enough. We are in this together. I know I would never be able to touch guitar again if he can’t play bass.”

Roger shook his head, “I won’t be able to play drums anymore either, at least not for a very long time.”

“Well, I guess I can’t be singing by myself.” Freddie shrugged his shoulders. “I guess the four old queens can retire and I can finally fulfill my dream of being a strip artist.”

“Umm Freddie,” Roger raised his eyebrows. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I won’t be paying to see you strip.”

“No of course not darling.” Freddie replied nonchalantly, “you would be part of the show. You would be on stage helping me.”

 Brian grinned at the playful banter between the other two bandmates. He continued to work on his soup. Once a upon a time he thought his life was not worth living if he could not play music. But now, as long as he had John by his side, and supportive friends like Freddie and Roger, it didn’t seem so bad. Not bad at all.

********

John woke up rather early the following morning, before dawn break. Not long before Dr. Adams and his team came at the exact time to round on him.

“Good morning Mr. Deacon.” Dr. Adams said in his usual cheery voice, “you look fabulous. All your numbers look amazing. I think we can safely transfer you to the regular nursing floor today. It would be a more private environment, less harassment from the nurses, and there is no limitation on visitor hour so your friends can stay with you 24 hours if they like.”

John gulped. He didn’t know if he liked that idea, there is no way they can rest well if all crammed in the small hospital room at night.  He cleared his throat, which still felt raspy like sandpaper and asked timidly, “Dr. Adams. What is wrong with my right arm?”

The doctor came closer to sit on the bed by John’s side. “Let me check.”

He asked John to do a variety of tasks with his right arm like lifting it up in the air, bend at the elbow, grab his fingers. John clumsily could perform half of the things he wanted to. It wasn’t even because of pain though that was part of it. He felt like he had limited control of his arm and fingers. A sense of doom was starting to fill his heart.

Dr. Adams sighed, “I’m sorry I do not have very good news regarding your right arm. As I predicted during the initial surgery, the nerve damage from the bullet to the right shoulder is quite significant and greatly affected the function of your right arm. You have substantial sensory and motor deficits to that arm. The only treatment for it is physical therapy and rehabilitation. There is no prediction of how much recovery of function you are going to gain, but I have seen great things happen.”

John’s heart dropped, voice hoarse barely above a whisper. “Will I be able to play the bass guitar again?”

The doctor put his hand on John’s left shoulder, “I am not going to lie to you, Mr. Deacon. It will be very difficult. Playing a musical instrument involve such intricate movements and fine coordination of the fingers that I don’t know if you will be able to do even with rehab. But remember, with the condition we found you in the first night, we didn’t know you were going to make it at all. It is nothing short of a miracle that you look as good as you do now. Rehabilitation is a long, difficult, and a lot of times very discouraging journey. But miracles do happen, just like it did for you in the last couple of days. You are a strong willed individual and have very supportive group of people around you. I believe if anyone was going to make it happen, you will.”

John nodded and thanked the doctor for the encouraging words.

Dr. Adams smiled, “we will get you started on physical therapy today. The goal for today is to get out of bed. Also, you can start to eat some light meals like soups and salads as you can tolerate. We will advance slowly.” With that, the doctor left John alone with his own thoughts.

Brian came as soon as he was allowed in the morning, looking considerably better than the previous days, obviously from finally being able to sleep during the night. However, what he saw as he came into John’s room still broke his heart. The blinds were down blocking away the morning sun. John sat on the bed, left hand gripping on the sheet while the right arm just dangled by the side. Even from the door, Brian could clearly see tear streak on the younger man’s cheeks.

“Deaky, what’s the matter?” Brian rushed to the bedside and sat down. “Is it pain?”

John shook his head, almost whimpering, “Brian, my right arm is done. I can never play bass again.”

Brian gently pulled John to himself, careful not injuring the wounds on John’s chest. The younger man immediately buried his face on Brian’s shoulder. The warmth and familiarity of Brian’s hug let all John’s guards down. He wept and wept while Brian carded his fingers through John’s hair and rubbed John’s back. Brian felt tears burning in his eyes but he dared not to cry. It’s his turn to be the strong one, for Deaky.

When John’s sobs quieted, Brian pulled him apart a bit to face the younger man and look into his green eyes, now red and swollen. John averted his gaze and had an embarrassed look on his face. Brian brought his hand to cradle John’s face, wiping away the residual tears off his cheek.

“Never say never Deaky. It is hard but it’s doable, and if anyone can do it, you can.” Brian said firmly, “I will be right here helping you with all I have got, so will Freddie and Roger. Think about all the bollocks we went through over the years, as a group and as individuals. We made it. This is just another hump to go through.”

John glanced up at Brian’s hazel eyes, shining with nothing but love and support, gazing at him with such a wonderful look of care. He’s right, John nodded. Thinking about his relationship with Brian, the band they call Queen, the difficulties they went through. Yet they all lived. They are still here, still together.

“But Brian,” John whispered, “remember when you had to have surgery on your right arm the time you had hepatitis? You said you would rather die than not to be able to play Red Special again.”

Brian chuckled. He knew John would bring this up even though he wished he hadn’t. He leaned forward and touched his forehead with John’s. “Deaky, that was fifteen years ago. I was a lot younger then and thought music was my life. I won’t say the same thing today. Now, as long as you are here with me is enough. There is nothing more I want.”

John closed his eyes savoring the moment of tenderness as Brian softly kissed his eyes and left a chaste kiss on his lips.

Freddie and Roger walked in through the door at this point, with coffee in their hands. “Morning darling,” Freddie waltzed to John’s bedside, pushed Brian away and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “We got to get you shaved, Deaky.” The singer complained, “facial hair does not suit you and it’s ticklish.”

“Do you not remember you had a moustache not too long ago, Freddie?” Roger reminded the older man while opening the blinds to allow the rays of golden morning sun matching his blond hair fill the hospital room.

“What are you talking about, my moustache was lovely.” Freddie sipped on his coffee and winked at John causing the younger man to giggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and comments will be appreciated :D.


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments again. I love reading your comments. By the way, this is the longest fic I have ever written so far. Close to 50K and still counting.   
> Road to recovery is hard.

They did move John to a VIP private room on the regular nursing floor. It is a bigger room with a better view of the lake. As the doctor promised, there would be unlimited restriction to the visitor hours. Brian definitely planned to never leave. If it wasn’t for John’s adamant refusal, Freddie and Roger would have stayed day and night too.

John gave all he’s got but physical therapy was still very difficult. Being bed bound for five days made his muscles weaker than he imagined. The first day, he could barely move to the chair right beside the bed before his legs giving out. As he sunk down on the chair, he let out a deep sigh. John prepared for the worst but this is still going to be harder than he thought.

He hated this too. The way he cannot take care of himself. That day after Freddie’s comment John wanted to struggle shaving his face with just his left hand and ended up failing miserably, his face messier than before at the same time managing to scratch his chin. Freddie grabbed the razor from him and finished the job. The singer then forced him to sit by the sink in the loo and washed his hair for him despite his protests. But in the end, John had to admit, it did make him feel a whole lot better.

Going to the loo was also an ordeal and required Brian’s company because he could barely walk more than a couple of steps by himself. Even though he knew Brian is more than happy to help John still felt humiliated. He had never experienced being so dependent on others before. He loathed it so much that he didn’t even want to drink any water if he had any control. It didn’t matter though, John groaned. If he didn’t drink enough, they would just give him fluid through the IV so trips to piss were still required.

Brian wasn’t helping either, hovering all hours, day and night, always doing everything for him. John knew he should be thankful for such a supportive partner who loved him so much but he was starting to feel being suffocated. For the first time in almost ten years, John wished for a cigarate smoke.

Therefore it wasn’t so surprising when John snapped a little a week after he first woke up, as he first experienced a regression in what he was able to do physically. He cursed under his breathe when he could barely make it to the door when the previous day, he was able to walk half a lap in the hallway, or when he couldn’t lift his arm night degrees while the previous day, he could almost it above his head.

The physical therapist that day was an elder, heavy set woman in her late fifties. She was nothing but understanding and encouraging. “It’s okay Mr. Deacon. What you are able to do everyday will be different and depend on how you feel. We all have bad days. You may have overworked yourself yesterday and now feel tired. Just get some rest and we will try again tomorrow.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” John barked as he slumped back on bed, wincing in pain as he sat down too fast. “I was shit today.”

“John, what’s wrong with you.” Brian frowned, “all she’s doing is helping you. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“You shut up too, Brian. It’s true. I’m completely useless and it will never get better.” John turned away from him on bed and scowled. He was short of breath, sweating like a pig, and felt like his eyelids were battling to stay open. And it was only the middle of the day, John buried a grunt in the pillow. 

The physical therapist did not seem to be bothered at all by John’s reaction. She smiled at Brian, “it’s okay Mr. May. Healing process is difficult and frustrating I completely understand. Mr. Deacon, hope you rest well and I will see you tomorrow.”

When the physical therapist walked out of the room, Brian turned back to John who had his eyes closed, seemed like already dozing off to dreamland. Brian sighed and tucked him under the blankets and wiped the beads of perspiration off John’s forehead.

“What was that about?” Roger got up from the corner and Freddie came out of the loo, asked in unison.

“He’s wiped out. I think he’s trying too hard with therapy.” Brian’s hand was still on John’s forehead, which looked flushed and felt warmer than he liked.

“This one step forward, two steps back is how it feels like with rehab. And it’s fuckin frustrating.” Roger shook his head in disgust.

“He feels warm.” Brian was focused on his hand that remained on John’s forehead and got flustered quickly. “I think he has a fever. I got to get the nurse and take his temperature again. Maybe he has infection. Maybe he needs antibiotics.”

Freddie went up and felt John’s forehead with the back of his hand. He rolled his eyes at the guitarist. “No Brian, calm down. Deaky does not have a fever. This temperature increase and flushing are normal after a workout for him.”

“You have got to relax a bit Brian.” Roger chimed in, “your anxiety level is not helping Deaky.”

Freddie grabbed Brian’s arm, “you know what Brian, let’s go outside for a walk and get some fresh air. You haven’t been out for days.”

Brian didn’t budge, eyes still glued to the sleeping man.

“Come on,” Freddie pulled harder on the guitarist’s arm, “Deaky is asleep, Roger will stay with him. Weather is gorgeous today and fresh air will do you good. You don’t get this kind of sunshine in London.”

Freddie practically dragged Brian out of the room. The went for a walk in the courtyard right outside the building. The sun was shining on the fresh new green tips blossoming on the trees. Everything was starting to show signs of new life in the gentle spring breeze. Freddie felt the guitarist started to visibly relax and smiled. “How are you doing Brian?”

“I’m fine.” Brian was short and curt.

“No, you are not. You are strung just as tight and thin as your guitar chords.” Freddie sighed. “Deaky is not the only one traumatized by this Brian. I’m sure you are having nightmares as well about that horrible night.”

Brian stopped his steps and turned to look at Freddie, “you are too?”

Freddie nodded. “Constantly, so is Roger. Images of blood pouring out of Deaky’s chest and mouth. Scenarios that we were too late, that Deaky died in our arms. I can’t wash my hands or shower in warm water because it reminds me of his blood. It has to be scorching hot or icy cold.”  

Brian sat down on a bench and buried his face in his hands. “I think those images and dreams will haunt me for the rest of my life. What do you do about them Freddie?”

“I call Jim, sometimes in the middle of the night.” Freddie sat down beside Brian on the bench and chuckled. “Thank God for the time difference. I talk to him, sometimes Tiffany and Romeo and I feel better. You should talk to us too Brian, me or Roger and Deaky.”

“Sure Fred. So Deaky, I know you are the one who was shot and almost bled to death. Not only that, now you have to deal with possibly never being able to use your right arm properly. Oh, and you went through all that to save me. But can you help me because I’m having anxiety and nightmares?” Brian replied sarcastically. “He has more than enough to worry about. I can’t burden him with my problems.”

“You are such a twat sometimes Brian.” Freddie put an arm around him. “The problem between you and Deaky is not that you don’t love each other enough. It’s you love each other too much. This is a long horrendous journey. You have to learn to communicate better.”

“I know.” Brian said grumpily. “I hate this. He’s suffered so much. I just wish I can take all the pain and frustrations away.”

“That’s not possible Brian. And honestly, I think you are hovering too much.” Freddie suggested. “You can’t just do everything for him without even letting him try first himself. How do you think that would make Deaky feel? Completely useless and invalid. You have to give him some space and let him breath mate.”

Brian nodded quietly, staring at the pigeon in front of him trying to pick up bread crumbs on the grass. As much as he pouted and though grudgingly, he knew Freddie was right.

When John woke up from his impromptu nap, he was surprised but also slightly relieved to see Roger and not Brian sitting at the bedside.

“Hey Deaky,” Roger smiled at him brightly, “how was your nap?”

“Alright,” John sat up and rubbed his eyes. He reached for the cup on the night stand. “’m thirsty.”

Roger handed John the water cup. “Brian and Freddie went for a walk downstairs.”

“Good.” John sipped on the straw. “It will do him some good. He hasn’t gone outside for like a week? I wish I can get some fresh air too.”

“I’m sure you will soon be able to.” Roger rubbed John’s arm and asked gingerly, “Deaky? I know Brian can be an ass sometimes, but all he wants is to love and support you. He’s not suffering any less than you are.”

“I know.” John sighed, “but how am I suppose to get better if he already rushes ahead and does everything for me. It already sucks that I have to relearn how to do the things I did since I was like five.” John set the water cup down at the night stand and leaned back on the pillow, “I know this would be hard, but it still sucks more than I ever imagined.” 

“When you were in a coma Deaky,” Roger’s voice suddenly turned solemn and John could see some tears glistering in his blue eyes. “Brian sat by your bedside for as long as he was allowed to. He wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t drink. He didn’t sleep a wink at night and only dozed for an hour during the day when he was grabbing onto your hand. Fred and I were certain that if you didn’t wake up, Brian would be done.”

John was quiet. He lowered his head and left hand clenched at the blanket. The image of Brian sitting by his bedside, waiting and talking to him, with no response took the breath out of his lungs and made his heartache. To mean this much to another person was a bit terrifying. He remembered all those years ago when he had to wait for Brian’s surgery on the gangrenous arm, what a miserable ordeal that was. The difference was though, he only suffered for hours while Brian suffered for days.

“So Deaky.” Roger sniffed and blinked back the tears, “yes this is hard. You have to learn to pace yourself. It’s a marathon and not a sprint. But never give up. If you can’t do this for yourself, then do this for Brian.”

John smiled sadly. He leaned forward and pulled Roger in for a hug. “Thanks Rog. But be assured. It takes more than that to knock me down.”

When Brian returned to the room, he was comforted to see John in a much better spirit when he left him. He was leaning beside Roger on bed, two of them laughing at contents of the magazine.

Seeing Brian back, Roger stretched his arms and excused himself to get something to drink in the cafeteria and offered to bring his two bandmates some juices.

John grinned at Brian sheepishly as he sat down by his bed. “Hey, `m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped at you or that nice lady.”

Brian nudged closer, chuckled and toyed with John’s fingers. “It’s okay. I have had worse, even from you.”

“Where’s Freddie?” John asked.

“Left him outside to smoke.” Brian reached up to rub on John’s chin, feeling the prickliness of three-day old stubble. “I think you need to shave again Deaky. Would you like to try that yourself? I would be right outside if you need me.”

John looked perplexed for a moment but soon beamed at Brian, “yes Brian, I would like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise John will be better, but it will take a long time.


	25. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news, this fic is pretty much done. I am just editing a bit more before posting all the chapters up. Going to post 2 short chapters today.

If it was up to John, he would have hopped on a plane the minute he was able to convince the doctors to let him leave the hospital. However, since the doctors had strict orders to that it was not safe to embark on a trans-Atlantic flight until his 6-week postoperative check, which means he had to grudgingly stay in this nightmare town for another 3 weeks.

He did however, after persevering insistence, successfully convince Freddie and Roger to go back to England and their families. Might as well, like Brian said, someone had to go take care of the messy business at home. Nevertheless, no one liked the idea of Brian and John alone in the seemingly dangerous town. Especially when John was still healing. To make everyone feel better, Miami left Mac to stay behind and help them.

They moved to a cottage closer to the rehab facility John was set up at, which was conveniently walking distance from the lakeshore. It was not a bad three weeks really. The rehab took up most of John’s time and energy during the day. Most evenings they just stayed in and settled in a simple domesticity that they both hadn’t enjoyed in the recent years as they started touring a lot more after the Live Aid concert. Sometimes they would take a walk by the lakeshore. On the weekends, Brian always try to convince John to drive to towns nearby to see another aspect of Midwest USA.

On the last day, after Dr. Adams shook their hands and gave them the nod to safely embark on the seven-hour trans-Atlantic flight, John and Brian spent the rest of the day packing. When day gave in to dusk, John suddenly itched to go see the Great Lakes one more time.

“Let’s go for a walk by the lake, Brian.” John suggested.

“Now? Aren’t you tired with all the packing we did today?” Brian was concerned.

“Come on. We will probably never come here again. The sunset here is pretty magnificent.”

There would be no love lost there. Brian muttered. He was perfectly fine with never coming back to this devastating place again.

They walked along the shores of Lake Erie. As John saw they had no company, he slipped his hand into Brian’s. The sunset view by the lake is breathtaking. It is rather warm in Ohio at end of May but Brian felt the lake breeze was still too cool for his liking.

He put an arm around John’s shoulder. “Deaky, it’s still kind of chilly here. Perhaps we should go back?”

John shook his head. “No, look how pretty the view is.” He beamed at Brian, “I’m not cold at all. Don’t worry. You should stop worrying so much Brian. It will turn all your curls grey.” He played with the guitarist’s long unruly curls.

Brian smiled and led them to sit down on a bench facing the water. The waning sun danced by the lake turning clouds crimson and purple. All they could hear is the wave splashing on the rocks on the shore and the songs of the seagulls flying by.

“I might even miss this place one day.” John sighed as he watched the sun disappearing behind the waves of the lake.

“Bollocks,” Brian shuddered. “How can you possibly miss this place? It’s been a nightmare since we have got here.”

John leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder. “I don’t regret it Brian, not even one bit. And I would do it again.”

Brian looked at him with wonder in his eyes, but pain written in his features. He wanted to say something but John stopped him but pressing his lips on Brian’s for a lingering kiss.

They walked back on a side street different from their usual route. The street lamps were dim and it was a moonless evening. Brian bit his lower lip to keep down the sense of unfamiliarity and uneasiness. He tightened his arm around John’s shoulder and quickened his pace. They were the only two people on the dark street which made Brian feel slightly better. That is until he saw a bloke of about middle age staggering toward them. And he was drunk. Brian cursed as the smell of alcohol was apparent more than 20 feet away.

“Buddy, you got change for smoke?” The man’s speech was slurred as he asked.

Brian shook his head. He reached to his pocket to feel for any cash, happy to offer it to the drunkard just to get rid of him. But he remembered he did not bring his wallet with him this particular evening.

“Fuckin bastard. What good are you faggot.” The man shoved at Brian’s shoulder.

The sudden physicality startled Brian, causing him to lose his footing. He was able to catch himself but unfortunately forgot he subconsciously shielded John behind him, who still did not have his full balance on the right side.

“Deaky, are you alright?” Brian bent down to check on John who fell on the ground, inconveniently on the right side and was clenching at his right arm in pain.

Obnoxious laughter came from the drunken man. Brian was an unusually peaceful person and detested any type of violence. But the combination of John pushed to the ground and the abominable laughter just riled him up to no end. He jumped up and threw a punch at the guy’s jaw with all his force knocking him to the ground. He would have started kicking the guy in the stomach too if he didn’t hear the sound of siren nearby.

“Go to hell faggot.” The punch and siren must have wakened the guy from the daze of alcohol because he got up and ran away with agile movements that would not have been possible for a drunkard.

Brian looked around, obviously confused. He saw no flashing light or police car anywhere in sight. Brian immediately knelt by John’s side, who was still sitting on the pavement clenching to his right arm but now with a forlorn look on his face.

“Brian, John, are you alright?” Brian recognized the young man walking toward them in a jean jacket was Mac, the assistant that stayed with them at their other two bandmates’ insistence.

“Did you make that siren sound?” Brian asked.

Mac laughed toying a whistle in front of him, “this thing makes a siren sound when you blow on it, quite handy actually. You two had been gone for a while and I was getting worried. So I thought I would walk around the neighborhood.”

Brian nodded and thanked him before turning his attention back to the bassist. John let go of his right arm now but is hugging his knees to his chest and curled into a ball. His eyes looked straight in the front but apparently seeing nothing. His heart was beating hard against his chest. His mind went back to that night. The shot, the chaos, the running, the screaming, Freddie crying, Roger yelling, and Brian, looking so stunned and lost. The cold, hard pavement, the excruciating pain, and the warm, sticky blood that kept rushing from his chest.

Brian’s heart clenched at the sight of horror on John’s soft features. “Deaky?” He gently cradled John’s face in his hand. “It’s okay. He’s gone. I’m here. You are safe.”

John initially tensed up when he felt Brian’s hand on his cheek. But the familiarity of the gentle touch and Brian whispering soothing words in his ears eventually calmed him down. He started to lean into the warm touch. Before he realized it, he was trembling uncontrollably and clinging to Brian for comfort.

Brian knelt beside John in an awkward position but he dared not to move. He kept on rubbing John’s back which seemed to be helping. When John’s respiration finally became more regular, the guitarist let out a deep breath that he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Deaky?” Brian carded his fingers through John’s hair, “are you feeling better now?”

John shifted awkwardly and gave Brian an embarrassed smile. “ ‘m sorry Brian. I guess I panicked a bit.”

Brian rubbed John’s cheek with his thumb, “there is nothing to apologize. It’s totally normal to be jumpy. It’s amazing you did this well for this long.”

“When he pushed you and yelled ‘faggot’, I really thought he was going to pull a gun and we would be back to that night all over again.” John muttered quietly.

“Don’t worry Deaky. Mac here saved us.” Brian winked at their assistant who was also kneeling by their side.

Mac rolled his eyes, “yes, I saved you from going to jail for assault.”

John’s green eyes widened, “what did you do Brian?”

“Nothing, just punched him on the jaw.” Brian spat, “he got off easy.”

Even under the yellow-orange hue of the dim street lamp, John could make out knuckles on Brian’s right hand were raw and there was a small cut where the skin peeled off. He took Brian’s right hand in both of his and rubbed them gently.

“How is your right arm Deaky? Should we go to an A&E, get an Xray to make sure it’s not broken?” Brian sounded concerned.

John smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine Brian. It doesn’t even hurt anymore. I would know if it’s broken.”

“Look gentlemen, I would love to sit here and chat. But it’s getting late and this is obviously a sketchy street, so can we start moving back to the cottage? We do have a flight to catch tomorrow morning.” Mac suggested while helping Brian getting John up.


	26. Chapter 25

“It’s great to be back home, isn’t it?” Roger asked Brian as he saw the guitarist drop himself on the sofa as soon as he entered the door of the house he shared with John in Southwest London since for the last 12 years. 

“I feel like we have been to hell and back, literally.” Brian let out a deep sigh of relief. He propped himself up on an arm, “by the way, thank you for tidying this place up for us Rog.” 

“Did I have a choice?” Roger rolled his eyes. “Or I would never hear the end of it. Fred had some important thing with his family or he would have been more than happy to come meet you guys.” 

John stood in the landing feeling startled for a moment. He was kind of spooked by how eerily familiar the house seems. The gadgets of the small electrical project he started a couple of days before the trip still displayed out in the den, the book he was reading and forgot to bring with him on the plane was still laying at the counter by the end of the staircase with the bookmark at the exact page. Nothing seemed to have changed here, yet he had been to death gate and back.  

John walked upstairs to the studio where he and Brian kept and played their musical instruments. There was his favorite bass guitar, hanging on the wall, shining under the incandescent lamp. Roger must had someone clean it specifically because there was not a single speck of dust. He ghosted his fingers over the chords and then stared blankly at his right hand. 

Feeling brave, John took the bass guitar off the wall and hooked it up to the amp he just built a couple of months ago. He hung the strap around his shoulder and wrapped his left hand around the neck of the instrument. The fingers of left hand quickly found the comfortable positions, one finger on each fret as he used to play them. When he brought his right around though, it was beyond just clumsy. He found that it was as if he could not move each finger separately to pluck each string. This was nothing short than mortifying, especially when he remembered before how he could play different tones just by plucking at the strings at different angles or how he could mute some strings while playing others with just his right hand, like when he played the solos for Another One Bites the Dust or Under Pressure. 

Roger and Brian heard the muddy and dishamonous bass chords downstairs and exchanged an uneasy look. 

“You didn’t hide the instruments Roger?” Brian raised his eyebrows. 

“Was I suppose to?” Roger asked. “I don’t recall that was on the list of things I was to do before you guys got back when you called 3 days ago. I even told the cleaning crew to pay special attention to the guitars.” 

“Shit, he must feel horrible.” Brian cursed under his breath as he jumped up from sofa and went upstairs. John was standing in the middle of the studio, staring down at the bass guitar that was still strapped around his shoulders. He looked up as he heard Brian coming in and Brian’s heart clenched when he saw tears shining in John’s green eyes. He walked up to take the guitar strap off John’s shoulders and unplugged it from the amp. After he hang the bass guitar safely up on the wall, he turned around and enveloped John in a tight hug. Brian saw Roger at the door and shook his head. The less people saw John in this state, the better. The drummer understood immediately that they wanted to be alone and turned away. 

John immediately buried his face on Brian’s shoulder. He was quiet but Brian felt wetness on his shirt. Brian gently patted John’s hair and rubbed his back. 

“Brian, what if I can never play the bass again?” Hiding the emotional turmoil that is going through inside of him, John’s voice is surprisingly calm. 

“There are plenty of other things we can do.” Brian toyed with the soft hair at the end of John’s neck. 

“Like what? Playing bass with Queen is pretty much my whole adult life.” John sniffled. 

“That’s true, but it’s never too late to change Deaky. It’s not like we need to work for a living anymore.” Brian reminded the younger man. 

“I can’t really build stuff either if my hand doesn’t get better.” John murmured. 

“We can go back to school, finish our doctorates.” Brian suggested. 

John pondered a bit, then replied. “That might work, until I start to fail all the courses.” 

Brian chuckled, “I think I will be the one failing. I would be the oldest student on campus. You know Deaky, or we could just pick up and leave, move to Leicester if you want.” 

John shook his head, “although my mother started to talk to me. It’s still more than awkward. I don’t need to be that close to them.” 

“How about we go somewhere quiet and remote that there are no people in the twenty kilometer radius and the people there won’t easily recognize us, like a villa by the sea in Italy?” 

John laughed, “neither of us speak Italian Brian.” 

“Fine, I guess it has to be an English speaking country.” Brian contemplated in his head, “British isles in the Caribbean’s? We could use some warm weather.” 

“It sounds nice.” John nodded, “but look at how pale we are. We would have sun burns everyday in those places.” 

“Let’s go to Canada then. It’s just as cold and depressing as Britain and there are so much land. We can get a ranch in Alberta and herd cattle.” Brian suggested. 

“Hmm, that could work.” John rubbed his cheek on Brian’s shoulder. “Thanks, Brian. I feel better.” He lifted his head up and smiled softly at Brian, “no matter what I can do with the remains of my right hand, you will always be playing your Red Special with Queen or solo.” 

Brian’s handsome features turned completely serious, “no Deaky, I won’t be playing anything without you.” 

Firm determination written in Brian’s hazel eyes. “What are you talking about Brian?” John frowned. 

“I am not playing without you.” Brian shrugged his shoulders. 

John was taken aback. He let go of Brian’s arms and bit his lower lip. “You can’t do that Brian. What about Freddie and Roger? What about Queen? Queen can’t just die because I can’t get my useless hand back to work.” 

“We agreed on this before you woke up Deaky, the three of us.” Brian said adamantly, “if you can’t play anymore, we wouldn’t either. I guess it’s time for four of us to retire.” 

“That’s load of bollocks.” John was getting furious. “Queen is your career. It’s your life. You are all just going to let it end? It’s not like Freddie can’t sing anymore. Yeah, that would be hard to replace. Or even you and Roger. But it’s me, the quiet bass player that no one knows anyway. Just find another man to play the bass and replace me. No one will know the damn difference.” 

Brian walked up to John and grabbed the back of his head. He smashed their lips together in a menacing snog. He nibbled on the younger man’s lips and sucked out the air from his mouth. John reciprocated, twisting their tongues until they were both breathless. 

Brian leaned his forehead on John’s, trying to catch his breath. “I will know the damn difference. Freddie and Roger will know the damn difference. Our fans will know the damn difference. Don’t ever say that about yourself John. You are just as irreplaceable as the rest of us. You know how many bass players we went through before we finally found you. Seven bloody blokes. Queen is the four of us, Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor, Brian May, and John Deacon. If one of us is missing, then it’s not Queen.” 

John closed his eyes and took a couple of deep raspy breath. His chest felt tight, shoulders heavy and he knew it was not just from the snog This is hell a lot of pressure. He whispered to himself. Like Roger said back in the hospital, he had to get better. If not for himself, then for Brian. But guess what, for Fred and Roger too, as well as all the Queen fans around the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated. :D


	27. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the comments and kudos. This story had been so fun to write. Kind of sad now it's almost over. 2 more short chapters today.

1993

“Gaaaahhh!” John let out an exasperated grunt as his right wrist cramped up and slipped for the fourth time. 

Brian, Freddie, and Roger all stopped their playing and turned to him with concerned looks. “Deaky, are you okay?” Freddie walked over to him and asked gently. 

John nodded, hiding his face with his hands in desperation. His forehead was covered with a sheen of sweat. 

“Let’s take a break.” Roger suggested as he set down his drumsticks. 

John sighed and put his bass guitar back on the stand. He felt so humiliated and frustrated that he wished he could just disappear from the face of the Earth. It had been almost a year since that fatal event. During the past months he had worked long and hard in rehab and therapy, harder than he ever worked on anything John would dare say. At the start of the new year, he finally got to a point that he could manipulate his fingers enough to pluck the strings the way he wanted. When he played by himself, or practiced with Brian, it actually felt pretty good. 

However, playing as a band was a different matter. He could not keep up with the tempo. John felt like as if there was a disconnect between his brain and his right hand. Whatever his brain wanted to do, his hand is always a beat or two behind. He could tell he was even messing with Roger’s rhythm leaving Brian and Freddie both confused. All John could do was focus harder, concentrate more, and when he tried to do that, his hand seizes up on him and slips. 

And they were not new songs. They were the same old songs he had played with the same three people for the last twenty years. 

Roger put an around him and patted his shoulder, “it’s okay Deaky, takes time.” 

John offered the drummer a weak smile. Everyone had been nothing but supportive. But to be honest, John was getting sick and tired of hearing those words. He didn’t know how much longer time he still needs. More importantly, he didn’t know how much longer he can keep on trying. 

He shook his head, grabbed his coat and headed toward the door. “I think I’m going to call it a day, guys. I don’t think I can be anymore productive.” 

All three bandmates nodded. “Do you want to go home Deaky?” Brian was getting ready to leave too. 

“No, it’s okay.” John beaconed for him to sit down. “I’m going to Ronnie’s. She wanted to talk to me. You guys probably have more work to do in the studio. I will see you at home later Brian.” 

Brian nodded, walked over and pecked John on the forehead. “Take care.” He whispered. 

***

“John, you don’t have to be so hard on yourself. You guys have taken breaks before and got back into it. It’s not like you need anymore money, or fame for that matter. Why don’t you just relax and let whatever happen happens.” Veronica tried to comfort her life-long friend as she handed him a cup of tea. 

“Thanks Ronnie.” John took the saucer from Veronica and sipped on the tea. The soothing taste of Darjeeling did make him feel better. 

“But I am the bottle neck slowing everyone down. They are all so supportive that they won’t play if I can’t. Not only as Queen, but on their solo careers as well. It would be such a waste of their talents and it would be all my fault. I feel like I would let all the fans down too. The thing is I am so close to be able to play with them like we use to.” John stared at his right hand, curling in to a fist and releasing it, doing those in repetition. “If only I could get this hand to act a little faster.” 

Veronica smiled and rubbed John’s arm. 

John turned to her and grinned sheepishly, “sorry to burden you with all my troubles Ronnie. Where are my godsons and god-daughter.” 

“Robbie and Michael are in school. Laura is taking her nap. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about John.” Veronica’s voice had a bit of a serious tone. 

“You have my attention Ronnie.” John replied. 

“Richard and I, along with my parents, have to go to Australia for three weeks to take care of an aunt, who is not doing too well. Dying basically.” Veronica sighed before continuing, “we may have to stay longer to help out with the funeral and everything else. We will take Laura with us since she’s only three but we don’t want Robbie and Michael to miss school for that long.” 

John nodded. “I’m sorry about your aunt Ronnie. What can I do to help?” 

“I was hoping if you and Brian can look after Robbie and Michael for us during the time we are out of the country.” Veronica asked carefully. 

John’s eyes were widened and raised his eyebrows, “you want Robbie and Michael to come live with us? Me and Brian, during the time you are gone?” 

“Yes,” Veronica nodded. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but…” 

“You know me and Brian, we live together. We are…and you don’t mind.” 

Veronica laughed, “yes John. I known you for twenty years. I know you are gay, or in love with a bloke, whatever you want to call yourself. I also know you love your god children very much and I can fully trust them with you.” 

“And Richard is okay with this?” John asked, finding it still hard to believe. 

“It’s his idea actually.” Veronica said, “you see, he’s the only child and his parents have passed away. The only family we have is my sister whom I am pretty sure still drinks a ton although she denies it. I do not trust her boyfriend at all. He is very creepy.” 

“Well, if that’s who we are being compared to, then no wonder.” John chuckled. “I will have to talk to Brian but I don’t think there will be any problems.” 

“Splendid!” Veronica exclaimed, “I know you guys will take good care of them while we are gone. And feel free to teach them some guitar lines, or at least how to read music. They are like their father, absolutely no artistic sense, especially Michael.” 

*****

John never imagined how a simple nod to help a long-time friend in need could change his and Brian’s lives forever. The three weeks went by fast. John had always adored his god children and loved them as his own. He would never trade his life with Brian for anything. But his mind did wander at times to the remote memories of the glimpses he saw with another universe. The one where he was a father of six children. Despite the grief and despair filled with that universe, John did remember he enjoyed being a father. 

Brian did not care for children as much, but he admitted he liked having Robbie and Michael around the house. Even if the only reason was they made John happier. Robbie was thirteen and Michael was seven. He tried to teach them guitar, which was a futile attempt for Michael, and played football with them. Seeing John’s interactions with the boys always made Brian’s heart melt, they were going to miss having them around when their parents get back. 

The day Veronica and Richard’s flight was due to land in London, John was getting ready to go pick them up. He was planning to pick up Robbie and Michael at school before going to the airport together. 

“Brian,” John called as he walked down the stairs, “can you go with me to the airport taking your car? We probably need two cars since there are too many people.” 

John was startled to see Brian froze on the sofa in front of the television screen, face deathly pale. “What is it Brian?” John asked with concern. 

“Deaky, I think you should see this.” Brian pulled him to the sofa turned up the volume. 

“British Airline 4537 from Melbourne to Heathrow encountered severe draft as result of tsunami when crossing the Southern Indian ocean. The aircraft lost signal with ground control since 3am GMT. There are 273 passengers on the aircraft of which are mainly British citizens. Multi-nation searching efforts have be organized in attempt to find the remains of the missing aircraft…” 

“Holy shit!” John covered his mouth with his hand, horror written in his eyes. “That’s Ronnie’s flight.” He turned to look at Brian who was equally as mortified. “What are we going to tell the boys Brian?” 

Brian grabbed John’s trembling hand and interlaced their fingers together in attempt to calm himself. “We have to tell them the truth, Deaky. They are old enough to know.” 

“Oh God.” John bit on the knuckles of his right hand, “they are so young, how can they ever take this kind of news.” 

Brian put his arm around John’s shoulder and the younger man immediately clung to his torso for comfort. “Let’s just go pick them up from school first and tell them slowly, yeah? Nothing is certain yet as they haven’t found anything. There is still hope right?” 

John knew Brian was lying, the chances of Robbie and Michael’s parents, little sister, and grandparents were still alive are next to none. Ronnie, John thought, such a sweet girl, a great friend. He felt forever indebted to her since he broke her heart all those years ago, but he dared to say they have grown closer since they broke up. If it wasn’t for some strange forces in the cosmos that allowed him to get glimpse of the future, they definitely would have been married. John briefly contemplated what life would have been married to Veronica. 

All were afterthoughts now, John sighed softly in Brian’s arms. Veronica told him to take care of her sons when they are gone, now those words sounded eerily morbid in his head. No matter where you are Ronnie, John vowed, I will take care of them for you. 


	28. Chapter 27

“Uncle John, are Mommy and Daddy never coming back?” Young Michael laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, asked John is a childish voice.

John tucked the comforter around his neck and rubbed his chin, “not for a long time Michael.”

“But they are looking at us?”

“Yes, Michael, they are looking at us from above.”

“Are you and uncle Brian going to be with us?”

John smiled and brushed the hair off the boy’s forehead, “for as long as you need.”

John vaguely remembers losing his own father when he was in childhood years. He was about Michael’s age and a lot younger than Robbie now. At first, he wasn’t very sad because it took him a long time to understand that his father was never coming back. Just as he expected, it wasn’t that hard telling Michael about the plane crash, but Robbie was devastated by the news. The boy was quiet to begin with, after hearing the fatal news, he became a total recluse. He didn’t talk, hardly ate, refused to play football with his mates. He sat in his room playing Brian’s acoustic guitar and sounded pretty damn good as Brian says.

This day after John came back from his afternoon walk, he heard the sound of the electric saw in the garage. As he walked closer, he saw Brian was chiseling wood. 

“What are you doing Brian?” John asked curiously. The electric saw was dangerously close to the guitarist hand.

Brian wiped off the wooden residue from his face and gave John a sheepish grin, “I’m trying to build an acoustic guitar for Robbie. The kid has been through a lot, hope this will cheer him up. I think the boy has talent, might even be able to make a name in the music industry. We can definitely help him.”

“Are you sure you can do this? Why don’t we just go buy him one?” John asked, a little concerned knowing that Brian doesn’t work with these tools all that much.

“I have done this before Deaky.” Brian said confidently.

“Yeah, like thirty years ago.” John said sarcastically.

“Are you calling me an old man Deaky, because I take offense in that.” Brian laughed, “besides, this will be better than any guitar you buy.”

John felt his heart swelled a bit. He knew how much building his own guitar meant to Brian. After all, the guitar he built with his father thirty years ago is still the one Brian played with today. John sat down beside him and start to helping with sanding the wooden board.

“Why acoustic guitar? I thought building electric guitar was your specialty.” John asked.

“Robbie likes the sound of acoustic better. Might be because the public taste in music has turned softer. Maybe our time of rock and roll is really gone.” Brian chuckled sadly, “but we better watch him or he will become a country singer.”

John giggled. He and Brian have many differences in the taste of music, but the one type of music they both agree to dislike is country.

Hopefully he will stay with us for that long. John whispered under his breath, hoping Brian did not hear.

Just as Brian and John were scratching their heads to figure out a long-term plan for the custody of Robbie and Michael, they had a visit from an unexpected guest.

“Mr. John Deacon, great honor to meet you. I’m Antonio Corvello, Richard Coleman and Veronica Tetzlaff’s lawyer.” When John opened the door, a mid built man of John’s age with dark hair in suit and tie introduced himself.

John shook his head politely and invited him inside.

“Who is it John?” Brian asked without looking up as he is going over papers on the kitchen table.

“Oh my God, it’s really Mr. Brian May.” The lawyer exclaimed and immediately extended a hand to Brian.

Brian shook his hand with a puzzled look on his face.

Antonio asked for permission to sit at the kitchen table, after being granted, he took out a name card and started. “My name is Antonio Corvello. I’m a long-time friend of Richards’ and served as their family lawyer. I am here to talk to you two about Richard and Veronica’s will.”

That definitely got John and Brian’s attention. They raised their eyebrows and shared a surprised look.

“Ronnie and Richard left a will?” John asked skeptically.

The lawyer nodded. “Richard was feeling a bit off before the trip since it’s the farthest he had gone from England his whole life. He and Veronica came to my office and decided to leave a will to make themselves at peace. The ironies of life.” He sighed and took out a piece of legal length document from his briefcase. “The will delineates that they divided their savings equally into three portions set up as trust funds for their three children which they will have access to when they turn eighteen years of age. If one child was to die before eighteen, the fund would be split among the two surviving children.”

John’s breath hitched thinking about how accurately the couple was able to predict the situation.

“Before the children turn eighteen though, you two,” The lawyer continued, “Mr. John Deacon and Mr. Brian May would be managing the funds for them and take care of the custody of the surviving children.”

“Ronnie and Richard actually said that?” John blurted out.

The lawyer nodded, “it’s black and white on this paper, signed and witnessed. Of course, since I don’t believe they talked to you two before making this will, you have the right to refuse. Then the case will be brought to a judge and he or she will find the most suitable placement for the children.”

“What makes you think we would refuse.” Brian frowned.

Antonio shrugged his shoulders, “just an assumption, it doesn’t really fit into your Rock ‘n Roll life does it?”

“We would be more than happy to be the legal guardians for Robbie and Michael.” Brian replied firmly with John grinning at him.

“Well that makes it easy then.” Antonio said, “I will just need to ask for the preference of the kids. Since they are old enough, the judge will take their decisions into consideration if they disagree. Afterwards, I will take care of the paperwork and you two will be the legal guardians of Robert and Michael Coleman. Are they in school right now?”

John nodded.

“Perfect, I do need to ask them on a neutral ground so I will try to catch them after school today.” The lawyer smiled. “Now that settles that. About the house…”

John sat there with a dumbfound expression. He was caught off guard by the information. That’s a lot of trust to place in two men who never raised children before. He wondered if they could undertake such a huge responsibility.

After discussing financial and legal details of the will, the Italian lawyer bid them goodbye but not before awkwardly asking for autographs.

“What’s on your mind Deaky?” Brian sat across from John at the kitchen table after the lawyer left. “Should we ask Roger for advice?”

“I thought I would never see the day that you would ask Roger for advice.” John snickered.

“Well, he’s the only one with experience being a parent.”

John looked at his lover, partner, best friend, lopsided smile and hazel eyes twinkled with fondness. He just realized, they never really talked about this. From the day Veronica asked him to take care of the boys before the trip to the current day which the strange lawyer barged in their house making them legal guardians, he never asked Brian what he thought of this major change on the way he would live his life. He just assumed Brian would be okay with it because Brian loved him. And Brian was.

John smiled softly at the older man, reaching across the table to grab his hand. “I love you Brian.”

Obviously a little surprised by John’s words, but Brian beamed at the younger man. “I love you too Deaky. But what is this about?”

“Just agreeing to take in Ronnie’s sons, with no questions asked, considering the effect it will have on your, on our lives.” John played with Brian’s long fingers, calloused at the tips.

“It’s only when you are happy, Deaky. That I have any remote chance of being happy. I know you see Robbie and Michael as your own and watched them growing up. It’s devastating what happened to Veronica and Richard and you feel that you owe it to them to take care of their sons. Besides, I love having them around. Being a guardian or parent, it’s new for me. I know I’m not as good at this as you are Deaky. You are a natural, but I’m learning.” Brian chuckled.

Moments like this there was no need of words. All the uncertainties, the misunderstanding from families, the offensive reports on the tabloids, the hurt, the pain, the hardship, were all worth it for moments like this. John squeezed Brian’s hand put it against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make them Dads XD or this universe would not be complete. Hope you enjoyed.


	29. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the song No One But You so much that I had to have it appear in this universe as well, so I took the liberty of changing the songwiriter to John so it would make more sense. :D.

1998

Crisp fall gave in to depressing British winters, and spring blossom was replaced by cricket chirps of the lazier summer days. John and Brian enjoyed the roles of being family men. Awkward Sunday family dinners, disorganized trips to Brighton or France, practicing guitar with Robbie, taking Michael to football matches, teaching Robbie how to drive, and helping him picking out universities. With no prior experience, they settle in their responsibilities quite well, Brian dared to say.

Blisters turned into callouses; bass strings thinned, broke, and then were repaired. It did take a long time, few years, until John felt finally play with the rest of them without everyone worrying when would be the next time his wrist would slip. However, John did not join Brian, Freddie or Roger when they did a random gig or two here and there. They haven’t done much as a band since the last album release in 1991. Some of it had to do with the change in music scene since the decade started. Heavier rock gave in to softer pop. Classic rock groups where everyone played instruments were replaced by boy bands with only vocals. There was a rise of hip-pop and rap, especially on the other side of Atlantic.

A lot of it had to do with the four of them settling into the domesticity of family life and growing old. They enjoyed the anonymity that not as many people recognized them anymore when they walk on the streets. They could safely have dinner together without people lining up asking for autographs.

The press still took a shoot at them once in a while though, such as when they caught Brian and Roger at a charity function 3 years ago.

“Mr. May, Mr. Taylor. Queen had not been active for quite some time, is it because Mr. Deacon can’t play anymore?”

“John had some difficulties yes, but he had come a long way and he’s continuing to work on it. Thank you for your concern though. I will let him know you care.” Brian replied sarcastically.

“Have you thought of getting another bass player and continue to make music?”

“Fuck you. We would never replace John.” Roger yelled into the face of the reporter.

“Mr. Deacon and Mr. Mercury were seen around Kensington market the other day. They both look a bit ill. Is the rumor true that they have AIDS. And that is the real reason that Queen stopped touring.”

Roger would have punched him, if Brian didn’t stop him.

Brian did feel disappointed a little for the lack of activity though. The anticipation of listening to the new demo for the first time when the recording of the song is done. The adrenaline rush of rocking on stage watching the crowd following every beat. Brian missed them, probably more than his other bandmates.

After he hang up the phone with Miami, whom Brian hadn’t talked to in months. He was pleasantly surprised to see John sitting in their music studio tuning his bass guitar with the piano with a sheet of music in front of him. John had come a long way with his bass since the fatal incident, but it was still a rare event to see him playing nowadays.

“Deaky,” Brian walked to John and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist from behind, giving him a quick peck on the neck. “What are you doing?” Brian glanced at the sheet of music, it was something that he didn’t recognize. “Are you writing a new song? And you didn’t tell me about it?” 

“I started this couple years ago when Ronnie passed away. Then I forgot about it until the other day when I was looking for my first guitar pick for Robbie. So I picked it up and want to finish it. As a tribute to her, you know.” John smiled weakly at Brian who sat beside him on the piano bench.

Brian looked at the lyrics and music lines and grinned, “No one but you. It’s bloody magnificent Deaky. You don’t write a lot but I honestly don’t know where you pull out songs like this.”

“Out of my ass, obviously.” John chuckled.

“No wonder I quite like your ass.” Brian laughed and smacked John’s behind.

“Sod off,” John slapped his arm, “can you sing this for me Brian? I want to hear how it sounds like.” John asked sincerely.

“Of course.” Brian got up to grab his guitar. It did take him a couple of times to get a good rhythm.

A hand above the water  
An angel reaching for the sky  
Is it raining in heaven  
Do you want us to cry?

And everywhere the broken-hearted  
On every lonely avenue  
No one could reach them  
No one but you

One by one  
Only the good die young  
They're only flyin' too close to the sun  
And life goes on   
Without you

Another tricky situation  
I get to drownin' in the blues  
And I find myself thinkin'  
Well, what would you do?

Yes, it was such an operation  
Forever paying every due  
Hell, you made a sensation (sensation)  
You found a way through (found a way through)

One by one  
Only the good die young  
They're only flyin' too close to the sun  
We'll remember   
Forever

And now the party must be over  
I guess we'll never understand  
The sense of your leaving  
Was it the way it was planned?

And so we grace another table  
And raise our glasses one more time  
There's a face at the window  
And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye

One by one  
Only the good die young  
They're only flyin' too close to the sun  
Cryin' for nothing  
Cryin' for no one  
No one but you

 

John had always liked Brian’s voice. It’s not as strong or has such great range as Freddie’s. It’s not as distinct as Roger’s falsettos. But it’s smooth and soft with a hint of sadness, which was perfect for the song.

 

“Thanks Brian, you sang it well.” John smiled softly.

 

“It’s all your work Deaky.” Brian patted the back of John’s hand, “you know what, let’s bring this to our meeting with Miami, might be useful.” Brian winked at him.

 

“What meeting with Miami?” John asked quizzically.

 

“Well, it’s now and we should leave. Come on, Freddie and Roger would be there too.” Brian dragged John up from piano bench.

 

“Deaky!” John opened his arms as Freddie and Roger both rushed to give him a bear hug as he walked through the glass doors of Miami’s office.

 

“It’s so nice seeing you.” Freddie was squeezing the daylights out of John’s torso.

 

It indeed had been a long time since they saw Freddie and Roger, John thought, months at least.

 

As four of them arranged on the couches in Miami’s office, the manager eyed them with a smile on his face. “It feels like déjà vu doesn’t it.

 

“Yes Miami.” Freddie put his shades back on, “I know we haven’t been particularly active for the last couple of years, and we still owe the fans in Asia a tour. But why did you call us all here today? Is there another Live Aid gig or something?”

 

“You are close,” Miami grinned mischievously. “I was approached by Earl Spencer, the younger brother of Princess Diana. He is planning a memorial concert for his sister, on what would have been her 37th birthday. He asked a bunch of musicians to see if they could play. He especially wanted Queen because his sister loved your Live Aid performance very much. Of course, this is nothing compared to Live Aid. But I thought it would be something nice to do for the beloved princess.”

 

“We are not going to receive hate mails from the royal family if we do this, right?” Roger laughed nervously, after everyone shot him a warning glance.

 

“I think it’s great,” Freddie said, “it’s been a while since we played together. I am even starting to miss you darlings.” However, both he and Roger threw John concerned looks, “are you okay to play Deaky?”

 

John let out a nervous breath, “I think so.”

 

“I agree,” Brian nodded. “We need to practice though, but no pressure. Let’s just go and have fun. And I actually have the perfect song we can perform in this concert.” Brian took out the sheet of music he grabbed from the piano stand at home and laid it on the coffee table in between the four bandmates.

 

“Brian!” John was surprised by the guitarist’s audacity, but as Freddie took the sheet and Roger leaned over the singer’s shoulder to look at it, there was no time to retrieve.

 

“Now full credit to Deaky who wrote it.” Brian put both arms in air in surrender but can’t help to wipe the proud smile off his face.

 

“It’s bloody brilliant Deaky!” Freddie exclaimed. “When did you write it, it’s so perfect for this concert.”

 

“It was for Ronnie. I started years ago after that plane crash, then just finished recently.” John replied, with a forlorn look in his green eyes.

 

Freddie leaned forward to pull John into a hug. “Oh Deaky. I’m sure Veronica is watching up there and praying for you and her boys. You and Brian have done a great job bringing up Robbie and Michael. Veronica must be very happy she had such a wonderful friend.”

 

“That’s about all I could do.” John his eyes getting moist. He stretched out his hand to reach for Brian’s at the other end of the couch.

***

Just as Freddie said, it was a sweet concert at Althorp Park in Northamptonshire. A small venue, definitely nothing like Live Aid thirteen years ago, but as Brian suggested, might be more suitable for their aging bodies.

 

As soon as they left the stage, Freddie immediately grabbed John into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you Deaky. You sounded magnificent. Every note, clear as bell, right on beat. You are finally back.”

 

John cupped Freddie’s teary face. He looked around to Brian and Roger, who also were wiping tears off the corners of their eyes. It’s been a long time since that catastrophic incident that almost took John away from them, but that didn’t make it any less memorable. It is the first time he played on stage in public with the rest of them since that incident. From the time he could barely life his right arm up, to the time he couldn’t pluck just one string on the bass, to the times when he could not keep up with the rhythm for the life of him. It was all over, John sighed. Now he could finally play with Brian, Roger, and Freddie, on stage, just like he used to.

 

Afterwards, the four of them sat around in the dressing room. Roger gulping some alcohol, Freddie smoking a cigarate, John nursing his tea and Brian tapped on his lap to the beat of the music outside. When Miami came in through the door, he couldn’t help but chuckle. So predictable, they didn’t change even after 30 years.

 

“Went well lads?” Miami asked while pouring himself a cup of water. There was a sense of serenity and tranquility in the air of the dressing room.

 

“I think so,” Brian nodded. “Now you are here too Miami. I do want to ask you guys, what do you think about going back to the studio?”

 

“Like to record another album?” Roger asked, a bit slurred.

 

“No, to check out the sound system. Of course, to record an album Roger.” John was sassy caused Roger to stick his tongue at him.

 

“It’s been 7 years since we last recorded an album and to be honest, I miss it.” Brian sounded wistful. “I have tried to do some solo work, but it’s not the same. I miss the fights, the rewrites, the separate recording sessions because we are mad at each other, and the excitement of listening to the demo for the first time after all the recordings are combined together.”

 

“You are really getting sentimental with your old age Brian.” Freddie teased, “but you are right. I do miss recording with you darlings. Let’s go back to Montreaux.”

 

“I don’t think we can go to Montreaux Freddie.” John shook his head, “how about just a studio in London.”

 

“Oh I forgot how domesticated you two have become.” Freddie snickered.

 

“That sounds splendid.” Roger cheered. “And imagine, it will be our thirtieth anniversary soon. We should definitely plan a tour for that. God, I can’t believe it. We are so old.”

 

All four of them looked at Miami expectantly. The manager sighed, since when did he become the mother for Queen. Arranging for studio time, booking arenas, planning album release, guess he would be busy for a while.

 

It was an overwhelmingly emotional moment, but words were superfluous. Instead, Roger found enough shot glass for all of them. Just like thirteen years ago, he raised his glass high, “to better days that are yet to come.”

 

Freddie laughed at the reminiscence, “to four aging Queens.” He echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short ending chapter and epilogue is left. Hopefully will be posted tomorrow. Hope you enjoyed and comments would be appreciated. :D.


	30. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last 2 chapters!

2001

“Michael, remember to be a good boy and listen to Grandma Lillian. I know she could be a handful but she only wants the best for you.”

“Yes, Uncle John.” John could even picture Michael rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone. “I am still very upset you and Uncle Brian would not bring me on the tour by the way.”

“You have classwork. Do you not want to go to university?” John raised his voice. Unlike his brother, academics was not Michael’s forte.

“Okay, okay. Have fun touring, I’m sure everyone loves ya. Say hi to Uncles Brian, Freddie, and Roger for me.”

John couldn’t help but smile as he hung up the phone. Adopting Robbie and Michael had definitely helped to mend his relationship with his mother. After almost a decade of not talking to each other as she did not approve her only son living with another man, she did however, see Robbie and Michael as her own grandchildren. Maybe it was because she was a good friend with Veronica’s parents. Maybe it helped her to realize that love was the same that transcend blood ties or gender boundaries. She learnt to support her son, even though she still didn’t agree with him. It all worked out well, or this tour would not have been possible if she didn’t agree to look after the teenage boy.

Thirty years of Queen. Freddie always had his streak of confidence. Roger could not care less. But John and Brian were nervous when the tour was first announced. Due to their inactivity for the last decade, they really wondered how many Queen fans were still left. The answer was, more than they thought. Hearing that Queen was back together (not that they ever split) touring again, people almost went mad over fighting for concert tickets.

They could not be on stage every night like they did thirty years ago. They planned the tour more leisurely with ample time to travel and rest in between. They would have loved to bring Robbie with them and even open the show for them. But to their dismay, the kid did take his acoustic guitar and started playing country music. And of course, after every concert, there was inevitably an after party for the VIP fans and the road crew. They started their European leg of the tour across the English Channel in Paris and Brussels.

“Deaky?” Brian was clad in bathrobe, fresh from shower, curls dripping water. “Did you hang up already?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, did you want to talk to Michael?” John asked.

Brian shook his head, “it’s okay, next time.” He walked up to John and wrapped his arms around John’s waist, hugging him from the behind. He planted a kiss on John’s neck and rested his chin on the younger man’s shoulder and let out a satisfied sigh.

John tried to wiggle out of Brian’s hold, “Brian, you just showered and I still stink from the show tonight. Let me go shower first.”

“As if I care.” Brian hummed while laying a trail of kisses on John’s neck.

John let out a soft moan. Brian’s kisses always set his body on fire. But he still patted the older man’s hand on his abdomen and said. “Let me shower first Brian.”

Brian let go reluctantly. “How about this, go check the bags to make sure all your IDs and papers are in order before you shower. We do have to hit the road tomorrow again.” He smiled coyly.

John rolled his eyes. He thought about the thousands of times Brian wanted him, Freddie or Roger check their travel IDs before leaving. No matter how old he got, he still was the worry wart. John turned around, give Brian a peck on the cheek, and went to the bedroom of the hotel suite to check on the bags.

John checked the suitcases to make sure everything was packed. After he was satisfied all the particular things he and Brian liked are organized in order, he zipped them up. He put his hand in his bag to make sure their passports are inside, he felt a small box.

Curiously, John took it out. It was a purple velvety box. He immediately knew what it was. John opened the box and saw 2 titanium bands, with their names inscribed on the inner side of the bands. He clasped his hand on his mouth and felt his heart jumping to his throat.

"Brian!" John took the box to the living room, where Brian was trying to dry his hair. He looked up to wide eyed John and smiled.

"Why?" John stammered, clearly still dumbfounded.

"What kind of response is that? Because I love you. You are not thinking of turning me down, are you?" Brian chuckled nervously. He pretended to be joking but John could see he was rather uneasy.

"Of course not. " John went up and hugged Brian tightly, breathing in his fresh shower scent. "I'm just surprised that's all."

"Well, I figure you have done so much for me over the past thirty years Deaky. There has to be something I could do for you.” Brian smiled sheepishly.

John lovingly caressed Brian's cheek with his thumb, tipped his toes and pressed his forehand against Brian's. "You have done so much for me already Brian. I won't be standing here if it wasn't for you. I won't have a single chance of being happy if it wasn't for you. I have seen what my life would have been without you and it was absolutely horrid." He gently kissed Brian, "I asked why as in what's the point. It's not legal in England."

Brian chuckled, “where are we going to next Deaky?”

“Amsterdam.” John answered, still clenching the velvety box in his hand.

“Where is that?” Brian was cleared amused.

“Netherlands?” John was getting more confused.

Brian laughed out aloud. He pressed a sloppy kiss on John’s lips. “You are so daft sometimes Deaky. Netherlands became the first country to make same sex marriage legal in April. Do you not remember? We can actually get married there.”

Why didn't he think of this. Brian was always the more romantic one. John thought happily. He put Brian's ring on the ring finger of left and held out his left hand for Brian to put the other one on him. Twisting the ring on his finger, John felt a lump in his throat again.

 Since the day he and Brian declared their love for each other, he thought marriage or children would have belonged to another time, another place, another life. Now they had Robbie and Michael at home, and they are getting married, legally. The difficulties of their relationship had created on their career, on their lives, with their families. Brian’s hepatitis in the seventies, almost breaking up after the short stay in Munich in the early eighties, AIDs scare in the late eighties, the homophobe shooting that almost took away John’s life and ability to play bass; all the hardship, difficulties, threats and hurts, but John wouldn’t change it for the world.

They both grew up during a time that any type of homosexual act was condemned in England. It took a long time for both him and Brian to come face the reality about themselves. John didn’t know if he was actually gay, because the only man he was ever attracted to was Brian. If he ever had a chance to see the John Deacon in 1974 just as he was going home debating whether to propose to Veronica, he would tell his younger self that the only way to live your life is to be your real yourself and share it with the one you truly loved. Because the world did progress, and once condemned relationships were granted equal matrimony.

Street lamps twinkled and cars honked outside the window. John felt he and Brian were the only people in the universe. He pulled Brian in for a tight hug, burying his face on Brian’s chest. Nothing in life was ever easy, but with this man beside him, he felt real, he felt safe.


	31. Chapter 30: Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter carries from chapter 8 of Decisions at the world premier of Bohemian Rhapsody in London. Reread if you don't remember :). I thought it would make a nice epilogue tying the stories and universes together.

2007

John rubbed his eyes when he woke up from the nap. He almost lost his footing on the curb as he got out of his car. They just finished their performance in the Live Earth concert at Wembley. Feeling under the weather, John told Brian he would wait for him in the car.

John blinked a couple of times and looked at his surroundings. It was dark. The concert started at 1pm and their performance was one of the first ones. Had he been napping this long? Where the hell is Brian then? He locked the car and walked along the sidewalk outside the arena. John shivered in his short-sleeved shirt. It was definitely cold for a July evening. John scanned back and forth, it was still Wembley arena, but things looked different.

What the hell is going on? John was getting increasingly confused and scared as he walked down the sidewalk. He saw an elder man sitting on the curb panting and sweating profusely. He did not look good.

“Sir, are you okay?” John tapped the elder man’s shoulder.

The elder man nodded. As he looked up though, John froze to his place. The same green eyes stared back at him, letting out a gasp. It was him, the elder man staring back was John himself. Except he only appeared older, like by ten years.

“What the hell is going on.” John exclaimed. “Who are you? Why do you look exactly like me? Well, only older.”

The elder man did not say anything, still stared at him and panting trying to catch his breath, looking dumbfounded and lost at words.

John looked around. Things looked familiar but eerily different, like from another time. Why was it so dark after an afternoon concert? Why was the summer so chilly? As he listened to the music emitting from the arena, he jumped. It was Bohemian Rhapsody. And John knew they did not play that song today, even if this was playing the recording from the concert.

“Where am I? What time is it?” John slumped down beside the elder man on the curb, defeated.

“It’s the Wembley arena. It’s 8:30pm, October 23, 2018.” The elder man stated in a rather hoarse voice, like he hadn’t talked for days.

John glad he decided to sit down when he heard the elder man talk or else, he would have totally fainted on the ground. Somehow, through a nap, he was able to travel forward to the future by 11 years. Guess I’m not new to this, John chuckled thinking of the time years ago he was able to see the future.

He turned to look at the elder man, who was still staring at John. “What year are you from then?” He asked John.

John couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It seemed like his older self was not new to strange events like time travel. “I’m from the year 2007. We just played at the Live Earth concert.”

“I remember that concert.” The elder man reminisced, “only Roger participated.”

John shook his head, “we all did, as Queen. We played We Will Rock You, We Are the Champions, Another One Bites the Dust, Radio Gaga, and The Show Will Go On.”

“By Queen, you mean with Freddie too?” The elder man asked quizzically.

“Of course, or who would sing lead?” John replied sarcastically.

“What the hell. In what universe is Freddie still alive in 2007?” The elder man blurted out.

“What the fuck is wrong with you. Of course, Freddie is still alive!” John wanted to smack him. But he suddenly remembered the other future universe he saw years ago where Freddie did die an early tragic death.”

John bit his lip, “the Freddie you knew died in 1991?”

The elder man had so much pain in his green eyes that he looked like he was about to cry. He nodded. “Yes, Freddie died in 1991. After that, we fell apart. Especially me and Brian. I retired in 1997 and had not seen them since.”

John’s mind was working in overdrive. So that was what would have happened after 1991 in the other universe if he kept on watching. He sighed at the thought that in the end, he and Brian still broke up.

“What are you doing here then?” John asked the elder man. “Why are they playing Bohemian Rhapsody in Wembley.”

“A movie about us, Queen, was made and tonight was the world premiere in Wembley. I was curious and came to see.”

“There was a movie about us in 2018?” John couldn’t hide his surprise. He was intrigued and aching to go in the arena to see. But he didn’t want to leave this depressed old man alone.  

The elder man nodded, “Brian and Roger contributed a lot for it actually.”

“And you didn’t?” John asked softly when he saw the elder man’s desolate look on his face, “why?”

“Not my place. And didn’t think I would be welcome. Besides, I guess I contributed by default.” The elder man let out a sarcastic laugh. He looked at John again, gaze stopping at the titanium ring on John’s left ring finger.

“How are you still married to Veronica in 2007? We should have divorced 3 years ago.” The elder man asked.

“What do you mean? I never married Ronnie.”

“What is this ring then?” The elder man pointed to John’s ring finger.

“It’s from Brian.” John smiled. He looked at the elder man carefully, thinking what he said. So just as he would predicted, Ronnie and he would have divorced eventually after 1991. But another 13 years as the elder man just said was longer than John predicted.

“Brian?! How? What?” The elder man stammered some nonsensical words.

“What’s so surprise?” John was getting a little annoyed. “I know you. In 1974, you proposed to Ronnie, I didn’t. You married Ronnie, I got together with Brian. We had been together ever since and we married when Netherlands became the first country to legalize same sex marriage in 2001.” 

“Brian…” The elder man murmured. “What the heck. I guess it’s all legal now.” He stared at John intensely as if in a trance making John extremely uncomfortable.

Suddenly, the elder man let out a loud laughter that caused passengers to turn their heads and look at them. Embarrassed and completely confused by the situation, John nudged his older self to be quiet.

The elder man nodded at him, “you are really a lucky bastard. I am such a sad fool compared to you. You get to marry Brian and Freddie is still alive. Well, it’s good to know that there is happiness in some other universe.”

With rather agile movements for his age, the elder man got up and left swiftly before John’s world became blurry.

***

“Deaky? Deaky. Wake up.” John felt someone shaking his shoulders and familiar voice calling his name. He rubbed his eyes and saw Brian bending down and looking at him with concerned face. John looked around, it was still daylight and he felt the familiar humidity of British summer.

“God, glad you are awake.” Brian caressed John’s cheek with his fingers, “I was getting worried, dead to the world you were.”

John didn’t talk, just focused on the man he loved for more than thirty years. Numerous sentiments just washed over him, love, joy, zeal, and relief. He put his arm around Brian’s neck and snogged him thoroughly. 

John was the most diffident, so Brian was startled by his sudden public display of affection. But as he encircled the younger man’s waist, he’s not complaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the story of the happy 1974 universe thought I know even this is full of angst. Thanks to all of you that read along and left comments on every chapter. It had been a fun journey writing this and I hope it did bring some joy to all of you reading it. I will write another sequel for the 1992 universe and the first chapter should be posted in the next couple of days. I hope you would enjoy that one as well. So long, see you next story.   
> PS. I am curious, which time zone are you at? I'm in US eastern standard.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short prologue to start. This continues after Chapter 13 of Decisions.


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